Yield
by mildlyattractivegroove
Summary: Rachel and Quinn fall in love one summer, but a series of mixed signals and missed opportunities keeps them apart.
1. Chapter 1

it's been a bad year, so bad in fact, that when she receives the application in the mail from a ms. emma pillsbury, she fills it out without hesitation. years ago she would have thought that spending her summer in a place called lima, ohio sounded like a fate worse than death.

_but really_, she thinks to herself, _how much worse can things get?_

when she opens her email a month later, she finds out:

_congratulations!_

_you have been selected to serve as an instructor at the sixth annual summer program for the performing arts in lima, ohio…_

she scans over the email for the details of when she's supposed to arrive in lima and what's expected of her, already starting to regret agreeing to this. _at least i'm getting out of here for a bit_, she thinks. _six whole weeks in the middle of nowhere with no one who knows me_.

then her eyes fall to a list at the bottom of the message: the names of all the instructors who will be in attendance that summer. her heart practically stops when she sees a name she recognizes-

_santana lopez_

surely, it has to be a mistake. but she knows it isn't. it can't be. that's exactly how much the universe hates her, and maybe, just maybe, it's what she deserves.

stealing santana lopez's girlfriend probably isn't the dumbest thing rachel berry has ever done, but she's pretty sure it's the thing that's going to get her killed.


	2. Chapter 2

the summer camp is a six-week program where kids from all over the midwest come and learn various aspects of musical theatre from so-called up-and-comers. during the day, the classes take place at the local high school, and at night, the students and instructors stay in a dormitory provided by the nearby college under the care of ms. pillsbury and her staff. mr. william schuester, who runs the program and supervises the instructors, gives an orientation speech in the auditorium the afternoon rachel arrives.

"i heard he had an off-broadway show a few years back," she hears someone whisper in the row behind her. "total flop. now he coaches a third rate glee club and does this for a living." rachel swallows hard and tries not to draw any comparisons to herself because honestly she thinks mr. schuester looks pretty sad standing up there with his overly-gelled hair and his whiteboard on which he's scribbled nonsense words like "community," "dedication," and "fun!"

the students won't be arriving for another two days, so mike chang, one of the dance instructors (and one of the few instructors who actually happens to live in lima), invites the rest of them to a party at his apartment that night. rachel briefly considers not going, but the thought of being alone in the dorm all night with that nervous, doe-eyed ms. pillsbury is more than she can bear.

her primary objective so far has been to avoid santana. they've never actually met, despite both being involved in the theatre department at nyu, and despite having dated the same girl (apparently at the same time, for at least a little while). but rachel's seen her often enough backstage at performances—barking orders to the other techs and wielding various dangerous-looking metal objects—to know she should be afraid.

at the party, rachel half-heartedly sips on a beer and keeps to herself, even though she knows that at least part of the reason she signed up for this was to force herself to be more outgoing. but most of the other instructors seem to know each other already, and they're all so boisterous, so...theatrical. and ever since the debacle last summer, rachel just can't seem to summon that spirit anymore.

she's thinking about leaving when she spots a impeccably-dressed boy slumped on the edge of mike's sofa. rachel's always been told she looks young for her age, but this guy could easily pass for twelve or thirteen, which makes the seasick look on his face all the more pitiful. summoning her resolve, she sets down her beer and walks over to him.

"do you need some air?" she asks him. he just nods weakly and reaches for her hand.

rachel pulls him from the couch and helps him outside, and before she knows what's happening, she's sitting in the grass in front of mike's apartment complex with this poor kid's head in her lap.

"thanks," he mumbles, "i just had a bit more to drink than i'm used to."

"oh, it's no problem," rachel replies. even though she doesn't know this boy and he's liable to start throwing up on her at any second, for the moment, the weight of his head in her lap is oddly comforting. she absently brushes some of the boy's hair from his forehead and starts humming a tune.

"spring awakening?" the boy asks, about three-quarters of the way into the song.

"mhmm."

"that's nice. my name's kurt hummel, by the way. costume design."

"pleased to meet you," she smiles down at him. "my name is-"

"rachel berry," a voice interrupts, and suddenly santana's sleek figure is looming over them.

rachel feels a flash of adrenaline, and for a moment she almost hopes santana will just get it over with and punch her in the face. it'd finally give her a good excuse to get that nose job everyone's always told her she needs, and then maybe she could start her life over as a different girl with a different face. but instead, santana just stands there with her arms folded across her chest.

when rachel realizes that santana is waiting for her to say something, she just starts in as best she can. "santana. i just...i want you to know that i had no idea you and she were still together when we...when i...and i doubt it will make you hate me any less, but you should know that she ended up making a complete fool out of me and pretty much ruined my life, so there's that. and if you still want to hit me, that'd be fine too."

santana just narrows her eyes, sizing up the situation. "how long were you two together?"

"um...about a year?"

"then i think you've probably suffered enough. am i right?"

rachel just gapes for a moment before nodding sincerely.

"alright then," santana says flatly before turning on her heels and stalking back off into the apartment.

"well, that certainly was interesting," kurt says. and then rachel hears herself laugh for the first time in what seems like forever.


	3. Chapter 3

rachel spends most of the following day going over lesson plans for the voice and acting classes with her co-instructor, a genial guy from connecticut named blaine anderson. his disney prince good looks and wealth of leading man potential make him exactly the kind of guy rachel would have wanted to date in high school, which can only mean one thing, he's incredibly gay.

at lunch time, they head over to the cafeteria, and kurt immediately waives them over to a table where he's sitting with what has to be the prettiest girl rachel's ever seen, so pretty in fact, that rachel almost drops her tray twice on the way over.

"rachel," kurt says, "i'd like you to meet my co-instructor, quinn fabray. quinn, this is rachel, my savior from last night."

"pleased to meet you, rachel," the girl says with a smirk, "i've heard a lot about you."

"i can't imagine what," rachel says, blushing, praying kurt hasn't recounted to her the whole embarrassing encounter with santana.

"well, for starters, i heard you have an amazing voice."

"oh," rachel laughs, "that was nothing. i was just humming."

"well," quinn just shrugs, not even finishing her thought, and goes back to eating her lunch.

rachel glances over at kurt, fully intending to reproach him, but he and blaine have already hit it off, and there doesn't appear to be any hope of getting a word in edgewise. she tries to think of something to say to quinn, but the girl doesn't appear to be looking for a conversation.

rachel tries to study quinn's features as best she can without leering. she looks like a grown up version of all the pretty girls rachel used to obsess over in high school with her golden hair, porcelain skin, and intense hazel eyes. it's a complete mystery to rachel how a someone can look so delicate and yet so threatening at the same time. this girl looks like she could burst into tears or fly into a rage at any second, and all she's doing is eating a salad.

rachel spends the rest of the day trying not to think about quinn and everything she could have tried to say to her at lunch to get a conversation going.

when the students arrive and classes begin, it's immediately apparent that blaine is a better teacher than she is. perhaps he's not as technically proficient, but he has a way of talking to the students that seems to really inspire them, even if rachel thinks it's mostly just recycled greeting card quotations and "chicken soup for the teenage soul."

when she's not in class, she still keeps to herself for the most part, but quinn always seems to be somewhere on the periphery—reading, listening to her ipod, making sketches—all the while being radiantly mysterious and totally oblivious to rachel's all-to-frequent staring.

on the third or fourth night, just as she's about to turn in early, there's a knock on her bedroom door. she opens it to find kurt and blaine standing on the other side, grinning like fools and nonchalantly holding hands. when kurt sees her notice this, though, he drops blaine's hand, runs his own through his hair and adopts a stern expression.

"matching jammies? really?"

"i simply like to be comfortable," rachel says.

"well, put on your dancing shoes because we're going out!" kurt exclaims.

"excuse me?"

"oh, come on," kurt says, pushing his way into the room and opening rachel's closet. "don't tell me you haven't been dying to sample the majestic lima night life."

blaine just stands in the doorway with a sheepish expression on his face as he watches kurt rifle through rachel's clothes.

"here," kurt says, tossing a pair of jeans and a shirt at rachel. "that should be good enough. get dressed and meet us in the lobby."

twenty minutes later, rachel comes downstairs to find the lobby empty except for quinn, who looks just as elegant and aloof as ever in a little black dress.

"kurt and blaine went on ahead; i told them we'd meet them," quinn says, matter-of-factly.

the walk to the local bar is short, maybe only ten minutes, but in that time, rachel can't think of a single thing to say to quinn. she just looks so confident and controlled all the time; it's something rachel's always admired in others. up until last summer, rachel used to be pretty confident herself, but she never figured out that trick other girls seemed to learn for keeping their emotions in check.

the bar is nothing special, about a dozen or so patrons stand around nursing lukewarm beers. kurt and blaine waive rachel and quinn over to where they're standing near a little make-shift stage.

"it's karaoke night!" kurt says, cheerfully.

"but no one's singing," rachel whispers tensely, realizing how badly the four of them must stand out among the locals already without having to add an impromptu musical number into the mix.

"i thought maybe we could kick things off with a duet. what do you say rachel?" blaine says with a wink.

her first instinct, of course, is to say no, but that blaine is so freaking charming that the best she can muster is a shrug and a nod of assent. blaine jumps on to the stage and starts fiddling around with the karaoke machine. rachel nervously steps up to the microphone and looks out. most of the patrons look confused or annoyed, but quinn's eyes are locked on her, glinting with expectation and encouragement. it's daunting. to suddenly have all that intensity she's witnessed in quinn focused directly on her. but it's also intoxicating.

_she looks like perfection_, rachel thinks, not that that's even a thought that makes sense. but before she can ponder it further, the track kicks in and she and blaine are half-way through the first verse of some classic rock song.


	4. Chapter 4

blaine, rachel, and kurt spend the better part of the next hour singing through the bar's entire karaoke collection. quinn doesn't participate, just sits there sipping her drink and boring holes in rachel's resolve with her eyes. as distracting as that is, though, rachel still feels pretty good. it's been so long since she's sung just for the hell of it.

when she leaves the stage to catch her breath and get another beer, quinn sidles up beside her.

"looks like you're having a good time," she says.

"i am, i think," says rachel, flustered from her buzz and her high from singing and that thing quinn's knowing smirk is doing to her insides.

"you look amazing up there, and you _do_ have a great voice."

"oh, please. we're just messing around. you should join in!"

quinn shakes her head. "i'm not much of a singer. i don't even know why kurt asked me to come, to tell you the truth." rachel feels a flicker of disappointment in the beat before quinn continues, "but i'm glad i did."

just then, kurt and blaine hit the final note of their third celine dion power ballad and come bounding toward them. "alright, ms. streisand," blaine says, "just get up there and belt us one."

"what?" rachel laughs. "no way."

"oh, come on. we're practically the only ones left in here anyway."

"please, rachel," kurt says with mock pleading, giving her an exaggerated pout that rivals even her own.

exasperated, rachel looks to quinn for backup, but quinn sighs and says, "i don't know, rach. i don't think you can say no to that."

rachel sighs, sets down her beer, takes a deep breath, and gets back on the stage. she's not going to sing a streisand song, she knows that much, and certainly not 'don't rain on my parade,' the song she'd always reserved for auditions in the past. instead, she decides on the song she'd been humming to kurt that night in mike chang's yard.

she gives quinn the tiniest of smiles before putting her head down and starting.

_whispering; hear the ghosts in the moonlight..._

when it's over, kurt has a few tears rolling down his cheeks, and a stunned blaine hands him a napkin to dab them away. quinn suddenly bolts up from her seat, and for a half-second rachel thinks (or maybe just hopes?) that quinn's going to charge up to her and kiss her. kurt and blaine both look over at quinn in confusion, and quinn, who seems to be realizing for the first time that she's on her feet, begins applauding wildly. kurt and blaine join in, though less enthusiastically and clearly, markedly confused by quinn's reaction.

after that, it seems pointless to do anything but go back to the dorm. blaine and kurt stroll along ahead, flirting so adorably that rachel can't help but grin.

"do you mind if i ask you something?" quinn says to her as they round the first corner.

"go ahead," rachel says, good-naturedly.

"with a voice like that...what are you doing here? i mean, why aren't you, you know, on broadway yet?"

rachel stops for a moment and sighs.

"i'm sorry," quinn says, stepping in front of her. "i didn't mean to offend you."

rachel shakes her head and smiles up at quinn. "no, it's fine. it's just...last summer, right after graduation, i had an opportunity...with the touring company of 'west side story.' but...i sort of blew it." she knows she could leave it there and that would be enough. she's told quinn what she wants to know, what she's told most people who have asked about her situation. but something about quinn, about the way quinn makes her feel, makes rachel want to tell her more, tell her everything.

as if she can sense this somehow, quinn looks over her shoulder and sees that kurt and blaine have already crossed onto campus. "do you want to sit down for a second?"

rachel nods wordlessly, and they sit down on a nearby bench.

"i blew it on purpose," she continues at last. her worrying fingers toying with a loose thread at the hem of her shirt. "my girlfriend and i...there were a lot of problems...but i thought if i stayed around and didn't go off on tour...," she trails off and rolls her eyes at herself. "she ended up leaving me anyway. i guess she'd been cheating on me for a while." there's a lump forming in the back of her throat, but she manages to swallow it down. "anyway. i've been trying to get back out there, but...my confidence isn't what it used to be."

they're both quiet for a minute. _really _quiet. not like the quiet rachel's used to in new york. but something altogether different, more pronounced. then, suddenly, quinn covers rachel's trembling hand with her own. despite the sudden flush rachel feels, the slender, delicate hand in hers seems so strangely natural.

"i'm really sorry, rachel," quinn says, sincerely. "i can only imagine how you must feel. but if tonight's been any indication, i know you'll find something. i mean, you're ridiculously talented and you're certainly an attractive girl."

rachel knows she must have imagined it, the way quinn's voice hesitated over the word _attractive_.

quinn pulls her to her feet and they start off again toward the dorm, still hand-in-hand. rachel knows she must be blushing like a fool, and her heart is pounding so hard she wonders if quinn can feel it through their connected palms. she steals a glance at quinn's profile as they pass under a streetlight, but quinn, ever the cool one, looks unfazed, with perhaps only the hint of a smirk gracing the corner of her mouth.

"so this ex-girlfriend of yours," quinn says as they near the dormitory, "she's the one that had you and santana doing 'the tango maureen' at mike chang's the other night?"

rachel lets out a melodic laugh. "i guess kurt told you then."

"i guess so," quinn answers, playfully raising her eyebrows.


	5. Chapter 5

with the weekend comes another get-together at mike chang's place. rachel hasn't seen much of quinn in the past few days since the night at the bar. it's not that she's avoided her, but she's done her best not to seek quinn out either. she knows there's a spark there, something special, and she doesn't want to risk it by repeating her old, obsessive mistakes.

aside from that, she and blaine have been busy revamping their lesson plans. on the whole, the students have been far more talented than either of them had anticipated, and they've had to stay on their toes to keep the classes from becoming stale.

she spends a good part of the night on the back patio having a fairly pleasant conversation with tina, a sweet but somewhat shy girl who also happens to be santana's co-instructor and one of the few instructors aside from rachel and quinn who has never taught at the program before.

tina goes inside to get them another round and rachel's thoughts immediately turn to quinn. she smiles to herself in the warm night air, thinking of how good it had felt to have quinn's hand in hers, to have quinn's eyes on her as she sang...

the sound of the sliding door opening and closing behind her pulls her from her daydream, but the girl pressing a bottle into her hands isn't tina, it's santana.

"oh!" rachel says, surprised. "thank you, santana." she takes a sip and begins nervously fiddling with the bottle's label.

"you can relax, berry," santana says, taking a seat in the chair beside rachel's. "i'm not going to kill you or anything. let's be honest; you did me a favor taking 'she-who-must-not-be-named' off my hands. and i'm sure whoever she's with now did you a favor too."

rachel smiles a little and nods slightly.

"so who was it then?"

"what?"

"who did she trade you in for? i've been dying to find out."

"why do you care?" rachel asks, a little pointedly. she's relieved santana isn't going to murder her, but she's not particularly interested in this line of questioning.

"i suppose i don't, actually. i just figured...let's see...before me was some sad schmuck from the orchestra pit, and then she threw me over for the school starlet, so i figure if she traded you in, it had to be for something pretty big."

rachel's not sure if that's supposed to be some sort of compliment or not, but she decides to oblige santana anyway.

"professor," she mutters, taking another sip.

"what?"

"he was one of our acting teachers from nyu."

"oh, you've got to be kidding me," santana says with a laugh. "that's too rich. well, good for him, i suppose. and, for your sake, at least it wasn't another girl. that had to soften the blow at least a little, right?"

rachel sighs, "i don't really see how that makes much of a difference."

santana just shrugs. "so, gotten any action since you've been here?"

"excuse me?" rachel asks indignantly.

"come on, berry, it's summer camp. _drama summer camp_, for crying out loud. us instructors are usually worse than the kids when it comes to these little away-from-home flings. not to mention, i've seen you making doe-eyes at that costume wench all week."

"i don't know what you're talking about," rachel scoffs, but the blush on her cheeks betrays her.

"it's ok; i don't think anyone else knows," santana says reassuringly, "she's cute, i guess, if you're into that whole aloof-hipster-waif-with-a-fine-ass thing she's got going on. i've got my eyes on a different blonde, though."

"well, that's a relief," rachel cuts in, sarcastically.

santana cracks a smile. "i guess you're right, berry. no need for us to be crowding each other's territory."

"you were saying something about a blonde?"

"oh, yeah. it's that dance instructor, brittany. i walked past the dance studio on the first day and my eyes just about fell out of my head. the things that girl can do with her hips are seriously criminal."

rachel glances over her shoulder through the glass sliding door and sees the girl in question dancing rather seductively in the living room.

"she's very attractive, santana," rachel admits.

"_attractive_? that's all you've got to say? did you _see_ those abs?" rachel turns to look again, but santana stops her. "you know what? never mind. don't look. i don't need you messing up my game with your whole 'innocent ingenue' act."

rachel just laughs. "fair enough."

they finish off their beers and sit in silence for a while. rachel can't believe she's actually been having a quasi-civil conversation with santana lopez, much less that they've confided in each other about quinn and brittany. so the shock of what santana says next just about kills her.

"so, berry, we should make a deal. if we don't get our blondes by the end of the program, you and i throw down on the last night of camp. what do you think?"

"what on earth makes you think i'd be interested in 'throwing down' with you in the first place?" rachel asks, more stunned than insulted.

"please," santana scoffs. "besides, have you even been with anyone since her?"

"have you?" rachel quips, angrily.

santana's mouth just hangs open for a moment before she rolls her eyes. "of course i have, berry, look at me."

but rachel knows it's a lie, and for a moment she sees that, for all their differences, she and santana share the same lingering wound. "it's a deal, santana," she sighs.

"excellent," santana says flatly. she gets up to go back inside, but before she does, she turns to rachel again. "you mind if i give you a word of advice about your girl?"

rachel wants to say that quinn isn't her girl, not yet, probably not ever, but she decides she wants to hear what santana has to say more than she wants to argue. "go ahead."

"watch out for puckerman; he's sort of the staff slut."

it takes rachel a minute to register who santana is talking about, but then it comes to her: noah puckerman, the music composition instructor. he'd tried to flirt with her at orientation, and it had been all she could do not to rip his stupid mohawk out with her bare hands.

"i don't think he's really quinn's type," rachel says, more in an effort to reassure herself than anything else.

"you'd be surprised. even _i_ threw him some under-the-shirt action my first summer here," santana confesses.

rachel's eyes go wide. "surely you must be joking."

"whatever, berry. like you've never had a moment of sexual confusion before."

rachel shudders, remembering the short-lived but tragically misguided crush she'd had on her high school voice coach.

"just don't wait too long to make a move," santana says, "because he definitely won't."


	6. Chapter 6

sure enough, the first thing rachel sees when she enters the cafeteria on monday morning is noah puckerman sitting much too close to quinn at a table near the corner. he's got his guitar out at the table, of course, and a sly grin plastered on his face. but what really makes rachel lose her appetite is the way quinn looks. gone is the calm, cool, and collected quinn that's so intrigued her, and in her place is some blushing, giggling thing.

"i can't believe she's falling for that stuff," rachel says, half-heartedly shoveling a spoonful of cereal in her mouth as puck takes off his guitar and places it in quinn's lap.

"i told you, berry, you gotta act fast around puck," santana says sympathetically. "but there's still some hope. if she doesn't put out in a week or so, he'll move on to someone else."

rachel drops her spoon, pushes her tray away, and faceplants onto the table. "this is a disaster," she whines.

"don't look now, but i think he's about to show her his f chord," santana warns.

rachel sits up and sees that puck has worked his way behind quinn and his fingers are covering hers on the neck of his guitar. "i think i'm going to be sick," she says, getting up and walking away, leaving santana to clear her tray.

a few hours later, rachel receives a text message from quinn:

_what are you doing for lunch? – q._

_eating, i suppose. why? – r._

_meet me at our bench instead? – q._

_alright. – r._

reluctantly, rachel crosses off of campus at lunchtime and makes her way to the bench where she and quinn had stopped that night on the way back from the bar. quinn smiles as soon as she sees her, but it's not that dopey smile she was giving puckerman in the cafeteria. it's something more knowing, more sincere.

"you've been avoiding me," quinn teases.

"what?" rachel says, embarrassed. "no. i've just been busy. blaine and i have been—,"

"rachel. i was kidding. anyway, i thought it'd be nice to sneak off campus and have lunch together, just us."

rachel smiles and sits down.

for the next two weeks, rachel and quinn leave campus at lunchtime. sometimes they just sit on their bench and eat, talking about their students or little things that happened that day. sometimes they go on walks. and every time quinn slips her hand into rachel's, rachel feels like she's won the lottery, or better, scored the lead in 'funny girl.'

she tells quinn about growing up in small-town indiana with two dads, and about her big dream of performing on broadway.

it takes a little longer, but quinn opens up to rachel about a childhood spent under the critical eyes of conservative, perfectionist parents, and a rebellious adolescence spent lashing out at anyone who threatened her sense of control. rachel has no trouble imagining it. quinn might look perpetually calm, but rachel can sense that rage brewing just under the surface.

puckerman remains a threat. at night, when they're back at the dorm, he hovers over quinn, and quinn always responds to him in the same doe-eyed, flirty way. it's nothing like the way she is with rachel, and in a way, that gives rachel some comfort.

_no matter what's going on between them, i have the real quinn_, she tells herself.

"i can't believe you're letting her play you like that," santana says.

"she's not 'playing' me, santana. we're just friends."

"yeah. friends who sneak off for a nooner every day."

"what?" rachel blushes. "we're not...doing that. we just talk."

santana sighs and rolls her eyes. "look. you're into her, and she's clearly into you, so you need to go over there and tell puck to back off."

but rachel just shakes her head. for one thing, as much as she likes quinn, as nervous and happy and excited as those stolen hours with quinn make her feel, she's not entirely convinced that quinn feels the same way. sure, when they go on their walks, quinn's always quick to slip her hand into rachel's, and she'll rest her head on rachel's shoulder, and she can still hear in her mind the way quinn's voice hesitantly broke over the words that time she'd called her 'attractive.' but they've never really talked about it, about what they are, what they're doing, or how they feel.

and what's more, rachel doesn't even know if quinn is gay.

she's got no right to get in the middle of whatever is going on between quinn and noah puckerman. if anything, she'll just end up making a fool of herself, and that's just not a risk she's willing to take. not anymore.

"so, how are things going with you and brittany?" she asks santana, desperate to shift her focus.

"dude," santana starts, "i've talked to her a little, but...i don't know...she says the craziest stuff sometimes."

"like what?"

"like...well...she started telling me this story about how she tried to keep a bird in her locker once when she was in high school. it was so weird."

rachel watches santana's eyes glaze over as she recounts the conversation.

"you're really crazy about her, huh?" rachel observes.

santana suddenly tenses, the lovestruck look leaving her face. "whatever, berry. it's no big deal. she's crazy hot, and so am i. it's only a matter of time before everything falls into place."

rachel sighs. "do you ever think it's strange that the same person who dated you, dated me?"

santana shrugs. "not really. i just assume you're one of those girls that keeps all her kinky shit under wraps."

rachel smirks knowingly. "or maybe you're just a secret sap."

santana slugs her in the shoulder, but rachel can see the hint of a smile on her face.

the next morning, rachel decides to surprise quinn. she's found a little coffee shop near campus where they could have breakfast together before classes begin. she dresses quickly, putting on her favorite skirt, blouse, and headband, then tiptoes quietly upstairs to quinn's room.

but before she can make it to the door, she's greeted by a shirtless puck leaving quinn's room, shutting the door behind him quietly. they stare at each other for a moment, sizing each other up. rachel suddenly feels like an idiot, her clothes so infantile, even her hands feel somehow inadequate. then puck flashes her a smug grin, running his hand over the unkempt stripe of hair on his head, and stalks off toward the back stairwell.

as soon as he's out of sight, rachel lets out the breath she's been holding, a raspy sob tearing from the back of her throat. she runs toward the main stairway as fast as her legs can carry her, not turning back to see quinn step out into the hall behind her.


	7. Chapter 7

rachel doesn't meet quinn later that day for lunch. instead, she eats in the auditorium with blaine and kurt. as soon as the students have filed out, she collapses into tears and divulges the entire sordid story to the two of them.

when she's finished, blaine takes one of her hands in both of his and says, "i'm so sorry, rachel. even though you never spoke to me about it, i could see how much you cared for her, and i truly thought she felt the same way. but maybe there's some explanation." he releases her hand and drapes an arm around kurt's shoulders, "you spend quite a bit of time with ms. fabray. do you have any insight, kurt?"

kurt opens his mouth as if to say something, shuts it again, then gives a long thoughtful look. "quinn's a very...private person," he says diplomatically, "we haven't really discussed anything that personal. i'm sorry, rachel."

rachel nods, sniffling, and brushes away her tears as best she can. she devotes what energy she has left that afternoon to her students, then returns to the dorm, climbs into her bed, and cries herself to sleep.

sometime in the night, though, she's awakened by the sound of her door being pushed open. she opens her eyes to see quinn standing in the doorway, the fluorescent light from the hallway illuminating her from behind. "are you awake?" she whispers.

it's everything rachel can do to pull her eyes away from how beautiful quinn looks framed in the doorway like that, but her wounded pride kicks in just enough for her to turn away and face the wall. she hears the door shut, and she assumes quinn's left, but then she feels the sheets being pulled back. the bed dips, and before she can even comprehend it, quinn has an arm wrapped around her, pulling them snugly against each other.

"i'm so sorry, rachel," quinn whispers. "you have no idea how sorry i am."

rachel doesn't have it in her to cry anymore, but she feels like something inside her chest is about to burst. every nerve ending in every cell of her skin that's touching quinn is on high alert, and yet, at the same time, she feels woozy. like she's in some sort of fever-dream.

"i know you won't understand this, but...this thing with puck...it's just something i need to do right now. just for right now." the words just wash over rachel. if it were any other girl, she'd be furious, indignant, demanding an explanation. but there's something about quinn, about that calculated control, about that barely-subdued fury; rachel can't even bear the thought of what would happen if she challenged her. and instead rachel just wants to focus on quinn's arm around her, quinn's breath on her skin, the way they fit together.

"but you've got to know...i like you more. you know that, don't you? he doesn't matter to me the way you do."

the words shouldn't be enough to take away all the hurt that's been caused, because, in the end, what do they amount to? it might be gratifying for a moment to know that she's the one quinn really cares about, but whatever the truth is about how they feel about each other, quinn's telling her she's made a choice, and that choice isn't to be with her.

and yet, rachel somehow understands this confession is a huge concession on quinn's part. so she reaches down, folds her hand inside quinn's, and lets her body relax a little. she resolves to let herself enjoy the moment, despite everything, because she knows quinn will be gone again before she wakes up.

at breakfast with santana, rachel doesn't mention what happened the night before. she knows santana will just think quinn's crazy or awful or both, and she's not willing to see it that way, not yet, not after how good it felt to fall asleep wrapped up in quinn's arms.

"making any progress with brittany?" rachel asks, noticing santana staring at the blonde who is sitting across the cafeteria talking animatedly with kurt and blaine.

santana shakes her head and goes back to her breakfast. "i've run into a bit of a roadblock there."

"like what?" rachel asks, finding it hard to imagine anything getting between santana and something she wants.

"it's that damn mike chang!" santana says a bit too loudly, pounding her fist on the table without realizing it. "every time i go by the dance studio to try to talk to her, he's always throwing her over his shoulder or lifting her in the air by her crotch or whatever."

rachel laughs. "santana, they're dance partners. they've got to touch each other and do lifts and stuff. what did you expect? besides, aren't mike and tina a couple?"

"whoa. racist much, berry?"

"excuse me?"

"you just assumed mike and tina are dating because they're both asian!"

"um, no, actually. i'm pretty sure tina told me she and mike were a couple when i talked to her at the last party. seriously, santana, you spend every day with tina. do you ever talk to her?"

santana just shrugs.

"so...," rachel starts.

"so, what, berry?"

"i don't know. i guess i just figured, now that you know brittany's not with mike, you'd be in a big rush to go over there, club her over the head with one of those blunt instruments you've always got hanging off your tool belt, and drag her back to your cave, or whatever it is you do."

now it's santana's turn to laugh. "really, berry? is that honestly how you think i roll?"

"i really wouldn't have any idea."

santana scoffs. "besides, brittany...she's too sweet for that sort of thing. now, quinn on the other hand, she's exactly the type of girl who'd respond to those sort of caveman tactics you just accused me of."

"pardon me?" rachel flushes with embarrassment, but she doesn't know whether to be defensive or intrigued.

"sure. i mean, i'll bet she's just dying for someone to wrestle all that control away from her. it's too bad i've got my sights set elsewhere, or i'd be happy to-,"

"i think that's enough," rachel stops her.

"alright," santana says, casually brushing the subject off. "are you going to columbus this weekend?"

"what?" rachel's mind is still a few minutes back, hung up on what santana said about quinn.

"you know. ms. pillsbury and mr. schue are taking the kids to columbus for the weekend to see the touring company of 'billy elliot.' did you sign up to chaperone?"

"oh. no," rachel says, absent-mindedly, "i haven't gotten around to it yet."

"good," santana says flatly. "don't. stay here with me. it'll be practically deserted around here. no screaming, singing, dancing, piano-playing kids for two whole days." as she talks, her eagerness manages to break through her generally indifferent facade, so she finishes it all off with a nonchalant, "i mean...if you want to."

rachel smirks at santana's disgruntled enthusiasm. "sounds lovely."

the weekend actually turns out to be pretty perfect. the only other instructors who stay behind are tina and mike, and they're really only interested in being alone together, so santana and rachel pretty much have the run of the place. it's still only lima, so there isn't much to do, but they spend two glorious, lazy afternoons at a lake on the other side of campus from the dorms. they talk about the hilarious drama of the productions they both worked on at nyu; they share war stories about their mutual ex-girlfriend. santana shocks rachel when she shows off her passable piano skills and engaging singing voice. she even manages to cajole rachel into singing a few surprisingly well-matched duets with her.

rachel has such a good time that she barely even thinks about quinn.


	8. Chapter 8

things are different when everyone gets back from columbus. rachel and quinn spend more time together in the evenings, talking, listening to music together, but quinn's composure is entirely different. her shoulders sag, and the fire in her eyes seems somehow dulled. it takes rachel a day or so to put her finger on it, but then it hits her, quinn is ashamed. she'd never say so, and rachel isn't entirely clear on the details, but that's what it is.

puck still buzzes around quinn a little, but she doesn't flirt back with him anymore. if anything, it looks like she's just too polite to tell him to get lost.

there's a million questions rachel would ask if she had the courage or the time, but she doesn't have either. the last ten days of camp fly by in a flurry of student recitals. watching her students perform is oddly gratifying, though. she'd almost forgotten that the reason she'd come to lima in the first place was to help those kids learn to become the sort of performers she'd thrown away the chance at becoming herself. but in at least a few cases, she can see where she's made a difference, and that feels a little bit like some kind of redemption.

after all the students have said their dramatically tearful goodbyes and headed out of lima, mike chang throws one last party. rachel is so exhausted she thinks about not going, but she hasn't even seen santana or kurt in days, so at the last minute she pulls on her shoes and heads over.

"did you miss me?" santana asks when she sees her coming in.

"how hard would you hit me if i said yes?"

santana smirks. "come on, berry. let's dance."

they shake their way through a couple of songs until rachel is sweating and out of breath. just when she's about to call it quits, the music changes and a slow song comes on. santana rolls her eyes, walks over to the sofa, and slumps down, leaving rachel gasping for breath in the middle of the floor.

suddenly she feels the most delicate touch of a hand to her shoulder.

"dance with me?"

quinn's voice is so unexpectedly timid that rachel almost breaks, but she summons all her resolve and without saying a word, without thinking really, she turns and puts her hands on quinn's waist. quinn drapes her arms around rachel's shoulders, and then they're swaying together. it's a little awkward, and rachel feels a little bit like she's in eighth grade again, except that this is the kind of awkward she could spend the next hundred years or so getting used to.

quinn smiles at her and breaks into a bit of a nervous laugh. rachel blushes and smiles back but pulls quinn closer, her hands suddenly more sure. and then quinn doesn't look nervous or embarrassed anymore. those amazing hazel eyes just fix on rachel the way they did that night at the bar. and then it's like they're all alone, just the two of them locked into something only they can see, and rachel wonders if this is what it feels like to be wanted, really wanted, because she honestly can't remember.

she has no idea what her feet are doing or if they're even dancing anymore, but who cares? she could just stand here like this forever, and she totally would, except then puck's there asking to cut in, and quinn's features cloud over in shame again, and before she can stop it from happening, they're being broken apart again, except it's not even like that. it's more like they just recede from each other, like they just acquiesce to the intrusion.

she just stands there for a second, watching quinn slip away from her again. quinn's words come rushing back to her, "he doesn't matter to me like you do." but rachel knows now that that can't have been true. because quinn and puck look so right together, and she can only imagine how ridiculous she and quinn must have looked. her eyes begin to fill with tears, but before she loses it completely, santana is there, pulling her outside onto the steps.

"why did you let him do that?" santana asks, exasperated.

they both think she's about to cry, but instead she starts shouting, "he just did it! and she just let him! and what was i supposed to do?"

"alright, alright," santana says, trying to calm her down. she pauses for a long moment, as if she's mulling something over, and then says determinedly, "look, let's just get out of here, ok? this party sucks, and we've got a pact to make good on."

rachel's eyebrows furrow in confusion for a moment before she remembers the pact they had made weeks ago, to sleep together on the last night of camp if neither of them had gotten the ones they really wanted. at the time, she'd only agreed to it to humor santana, not thinking for a second she'd have to follow through on it. but now, in this moment, it's all she wants to do. it's an unexpected feeling, but she's just so unbearably frustrated, and if santana's willing to give her some release for all that, then who is she to turn it down.

"yeah," she says confidently, "let's go."

santana nods. "just wait here for a minute, ok?"

"ok."

santana goes back inside. the music's picked up again, and it takes her a second, but then she spots quinn heading toward the bathroom. "hey, blondie!" she calls, catching up to her, "you mind telling me what the hell you think you're doing?"

"excuse me?" quinn replies, poised for a fight.

"one minute you're all over my girl berry, and the next you're off shacking up with suckerman, so i figure, either you're just an unrepentant skank, or you've got some serious self-loathing homophobia going on. but until you figure that out, you need to back off, because i honestly have no qualms about shooting you in your pretty little face with a nail gun. are we clear?"

quinn casts her eyes to the floor, embarrassed. "you're right," she mumbles, but santana's already gone.


	9. Chapter 9

as soon as they're back in rachel's room, rachel lunges for santana, lips bruising, teeth clattering against each other, her hands pinning santana's hips against the closet door. santana smirks and lets out sarcastic chuckle, but rachel stops it in her mouth, pressing harder against her. santana lets out a gasp of surprise, regroups, and then it's on.

she pushes rachel back toward the bed, and they unceremoniously collapse together in a messy tangle of limbs, elbows and knees banging into shins and ribs. somewhere along the way, enough clothes get lost for everyone to get what they want. as a matter of fact, santana's already touching her, and she lets herself get lost in it for a moment, her hands falling from santana's shoulders to clutch the sheets at her sides, her hips rolling, causing her back to arch deliciously over and over.

but, as good as it feels, she's not about to let santana get the better of her. with some effort, rachel flips them over so that santana is on her back beneath her. santana groans as her shoulder blades hit the mattress, and rachel reaches down, the movement of her fingers mirroring what santana's doing to her.

they fall into a rhythm, and for a few minutes there's no sound but their echoed panting and the rustling of the sheets as they arch back and forth into each other. it's so quiet, though, that rachel starts to worry that one of them is going to lose their nerve, so she redoubles her efforts, pressing into santana with more urgency, fingers frantically curling and uncurling, her teeth and tongue taking advantage of any expanse of skin she can get at.

santana starts keening underneath her, and rachel decides it's the best sound she's heard in ages. just the fact that she's been able to make it happen, that she's having that effect on someone. and then she's crashing right along with her, burying her face in the sheets next to santana's head to muffle her groans.

when all the sound and movement stops, rachel rolls over onto her back on the bed next to santana, who is still panting hard. "damn, berry," santana pants out, half-laughing. "didn't know you had it in you. just give me a minute here to catch my breath-,"

but before she can even finish the statement, rachel collapses into a sob. it's low and primal and comes from somewhere deep in her chest. there's not a single attractive thing about it. she's a trembling, sweaty mess, and her nose starts to run almost immediately. but suddenly she feels santana's arms around her.

"there it is. alright, berry. go ahead. let it out. come on." santana tugs rachel into her chest and pulls the sheets up around them both. "it's gonna be alright, rachel." it's the first and last time santana ever uses rachel's first name. rachel sobs until she passes out with her face buried in the side of santana's neck.

a few hours later, rachel opens her eyes to find that santana has disentangled herself from her and is curled in a ball under a blanket at the foot of the bed. she smiles for a moment at the gesture, then whispers, "santana."

santana just groans.

"santana," she tries again more forcefully.

"hm?"

"it's alright. you can go back to your room."

"you sure?" santana asks, sitting and rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"mhm. yeah. get some rest."

santana climbs from the bed and clumsily pulls on her clothes. before she leaves, she reaches down to pull the sheets up securely over rachel's shoulders and drapes the blanket over her as well. "'night, berry."

"goodnight."

in the morning, rachel stands in front of the mirror and tries to assess how she really feels about everything that's just transpired. she's never had sex outside of a relationship before, so there's that to consider. but santana has been nothing but a real friend to her since they met, and although rachel can hardly believe it, she actually trusts her, not to mention the fact that it had also felt really good. her body's covered in various bumps and bruises, and she has to smile a bit at that. it's just so different from anything she's used to, from what anyone would expect. so rachel decides she's alright on that front.

as for the situation with quinn? well, rachel decides to put it away. quinn's obviously made her choice, and whatever little flirtation they may have had was just that, just an anomaly.

she showers and dresses and walks over to the cafeteria, where the first thing she sees is santana sitting at a table with brittany, holding hands and smiling like a fool. rachel can't help but feel happy for santana, though she's more than a little intrigued. she gives santana a confused wave and a smile, and santana jumps up from the table and walks over to her.

"so, you and brittany then?"

"i think so," santana breathes out, beaming.

"that's so great santana, but i thought...i mean...last night?"

"i lied," santana says, the faintest smirk darting across her face.

"but why?"

"i don't know, berry. seemed like you needed it."

rachel's face falls. sympathy is just not something she can take right now, not about this.

"besides, it was a pretty great 'fuck you' to 'she who must not be named,' don't you think?" rachel can't help but smile a little at that.

"and look, rachel, you can't ever tell anyone i told you this, but...you were better than i thought you'd be," santana says with unexpected sincerity. "seriously. you don't have anything to be embarrassed about." and then rachel completely cracks up laughing. santana lopez might be the most twisted, kindest person she's ever met.

"go get your girl, lezpez," she says, rolling her eyes. and when santana sits back down at the table and smiles at brittany and brittany smiles back and kisses her on the cheek, rachel wonders how she ever could have thought those two weren't going to end up together.


	10. Chapter 10

most of their flights aren't leaving until the next day, but quinn leaves that afternoon. she doesn't say goodbye to rachel, or to anyone else for that matter, but rachel finds a note on her bed in quinn's plain handwriting-

_rachel,_

_when i came here this summer, i didn't expect i'd make many friends. i know i can come off as pretty indifferent, and that has a tendency to keep most people at a distance. so imagine my surprise when i met you and you just plowed through all of that and saw right into me. _

_you're an amazing woman, rachel. funny, talented, charming, kind-hearted. i don't know if you can ever forgive me for all the hurt i've caused you, but i hope you can, because i truly believe you're my anam cara, my 'soul friend,' and i'd hate to have to live the rest of my life without you in it._

_come and find me in boston if you have the time. i'd love to spend some time with you back in 'real life.'_

_love,_

_your quinn_

rachel doesn't know what to make of it, but mostly she's just tired, and, surprisingly, a little bit relieved that quinn is gone. the letter's mention of 'real life,' however, gets her thinking about her own real life. quinn's on her way back to boston, where she's working on her master's in art history. rachel and santana graduated that spring, and santana's already got a job with a theater company as a tech. kurt's starting grad school in the fall. blaine's moving to the city to start teaching high school drama.

but rachel has absolutely no plan. she sighs, folding quinn's letter into a tiny square and slipping it into her wallet. it's a problem for another day. right now, it's time to get to work.

the first thing she does is convince blaine to move in with her. it doesn't take much work. he needs a place to stay, she's got the space, and she can certainly use the extra rent money. and within a week, she's got herself two part-time jobs set up for the fall, one as a receptionist, and the other giving voice lessons at a nearby music school. rachel starts to feel a little bit of her old tenacity coming back; it's a good feeling.

she sees a lot more of santana than she had expected. they live in the same neighborhood, and with brittany all the way in california and kurt and blaine in the throes of young love, it seems only natural that they spend time together.

one night, as they stumble in from a long, boisterous dinner, rachel's cell phone rings.

"it's quinn," rachel gasps. "what do i do?"

"what do you want to do?" santana shrugs.

rachel answers it, but santana presses her head close to rachel's so she can listen in.

"hello?"

"hi," quinn's voice is timid again, "i'm so glad you picked up. what are you up to?"

"oh, santana and i just got back from dinner. what about you?"

"i'm taking a bath."

the mental image flashes across rachel's mind, and her phone slips from her hand, hitting the floor and ending the call.

"subtle, berry."

"why would she call me from the bathtub?" rachel says with nervous exasperation.

santana just rolls her eyes at her. "ok. i'm going to go home and let you take your booty call in private, but call me tomorrow, alright?"

"yeah, alright," rachel says, her voice quavering as she bends down to retrieve her phone from the floor.

when she's able to steady her fingers long enough to dial quinn's number, she calls her back.

"i'm sorry about that," she says, "i dropped my phone."

quinn laughs a little. "that's alright. can you talk now?"

"sure."

"i miss you, rachel. i miss you a lot," quinn confesses.

the adrenaline starts coursing through rachel almost immediately. "i miss you too, quinn."

"do you think you could come and stay with me for a while?"

"for how long?"

"how long do you have?"

"i don't start my jobs for another two weeks."

"well, then, as long as you want until then, i guess. i really need you here." she doesn't say why though, and rachel, of course, doesn't ask. she just throws some clothes in a bag and catches the first train to boston the next morning, leaving a note for blaine and texting santana on the way.

_dude. you are so going to get laid, _santana texts back.


	11. Chapter 11

after the first three days, rachel gives up on trying to figure out why quinn needed her to be there so urgently. nothing in particular seems to be going on. she and quinn pass the time just doing regular things: watching movies, cooking, running errands.

quinn constantly reaches for her hand, everywhere they go. rachel has only ever seen herself as the stunning young ingénue, maria in "west side story," but something about the way quinn reaches for her, about the way quinn's hand feels in hers, makes her wish she could stand a little straighter, be a little stronger.

after the first night, quinn tells her it's silly for her to sleep on the couch, so rachel climbs into bed quinn's bed with hesitant excitement. but quinn doesn't make a single move toward her that night, or any other night. each morning, however, she awakes to find quinn softly smiling at her from her side of the bed.

seeing quinn like that, with her hair mussed, her hazel eyes sparkling, her perfect skin glowing in the sunlight, makes rachel desperate to pull quinn's face to hers and kiss her, but she never does. being impulsive like that, acting on her emotions without thinking about the consequences, has gotten her into so much trouble in the past. and she knows quinn isn't the kind of girl who would appreciate that sort of thing, anyway.

so rachel keeps her cool and reminds herself that quinn is the one who keeps reaching out to her. she knows quinn must have a plan, and that if she's patient, if she proves herself, quinn will show her what it is.

on the fourth night, they sit on the floor in quinn's living room, listening to records and drinking wine. rachel's nerves have put her several glasses ahead of quinn, but she doesn't mind that so much. she lets the warm rush from the alcohol stand in the place of the one she wishes quinn would give her. and the haze it puts her in just ever-so-slightly dulls the ache in her chest.

rachel loves to hear quinn talk; she's usually so stingy with her words, so when quinn goes off on some quasi-feminist rant about _anna karenina_, rachel just leans back against the couch and lets the music of quinn's voice wash over her. it's delicious, the way quinn's voice slips from her throat, like it's getting away from her. rachel wonders what it would be like to try to catch those sweet tones on her tongue like snowflakes.

"are you even listening to me?" quinn says, bemused.

"sure," rachel says, lazily, "but just so we're clear, you're not going to throw yourself in front of a train, are you?"

quinn scoffs, rolling her eyes playfully. she nudges her shoulder, but then stays there, leaning into rachel until the record ends.

"you know, i was talking to puck the other night," quinn says at last, a smile playing on her lips.

"oh, really?" rachel jolts back into full consciousness. she's not entirely sure where this is going, but she's got a pretty good idea.

"yeah. he seems to think you don't like him, seems to think it's because you're interested in me."

_oh god_, rachel thinks, _we're finally going to talk about this then._ but suddenly she feels too drunk, too unsteady for this conversation. and then everything's going blurry.

"will you excuse me for a moment?" she manages to force out, and the next thing she knows she's vomiting in quinn's bathroom. for a half-second she thinks, _alright, this is a good thing. get some of this stuff out my system, and then we'll really talk about things._ but everything fogs over again, and the next thing she knows quinn is there pressing a cool washcloth to her face and pulling her from the bathroom floor.

rachel starts to cry almost immediately. it's embarrassing for one thing, and then there's also the fact that she's pretty sure she can wipe any expectations she had of getting laid tonight from her mind. but she can't manage to verbalize any of that, so instead she just cries softly while quinn strips her down to her underwear and tucks her into bed.

when she opens her eyes the next morning, it takes her a minute to sort out why she's in her underwear, and when she does, she's mortified. she takes a deep breath and turns over, fully intending to launch into as dignified an apology as she can in her current state, but quinn is nowhere in sight.

rachel crawls out of bed and slowly ambles her way into the bathroom to splash some water on her face, but as she plants her hands on the counter, she finds something staring up at her from beside the sink. it takes her longer than it should to register what it is, because not only is she dreadfully hungover, she's also unwilling to accept it at first glance.

but there it is, plain as day, the little pink plus sign that changes everything.

rachel's heart leaps into her throat, making even the prospect of breathing a dangerous endeavor. when she looks at it again, she doesn't see _it_. instead what she sees is a shirtless puck, running his hand over that stupid strip of hair on his head and grinning at her condescendingly. rachel feels that same defeated feeling she felt that morning she'd seen him leaving quinn's room. like no matter how much she loves quinn, he's got her in a way she can't.

rachel shuts her eyes tightly and draws in a deep breath, forcing her pounding heart back down into her chest. she then sets to work trying to freshen herself up a bit; she's determined not to look so much like road kill in his moment. when she's gotten as presentable as she can be under the circumstances, she edges out of the bathroom and goes into the living room. through the window, she spots quinn outside in the backyard, yelling into her phone and gesticulating wildly.

_him_, rachel thinks, _she's telling him right now. and i'm here. and i knew before he did. and what the hell am i doing here?_

she goes back into quinn's room, fishes her phone out from under a pile of clothes and calls santana.

"hello?" santana answers groggily.

"quinn's pregnant." rachel says it as flatly and as quickly as she can, but actually hearing it out loud still causes her knees to tremble.

"whoa. way to go, champ! i knew you could do it."

"i'm serious, santana."

the silence is prolonged, almost deafening. and then santana says, "i'll come get you."

rachel considers the offer. if she's going to leave, she has to do it right now. anything else would be a concession of responsibility. anything else is a statement of consent. anything else makes her a willing participant in this whole sordid thing.

"it's alright," she says, "i'll just get the train back. go back to bed."

"are you going to be ok?"

"i'm fine," rachel says, half-heartedly.

"i'm really sorry, berry. i really thought-,"

"i'm _fine_," rachel interrupts harshly.

"well, listen," santana says, her tone shifting from empathetic to indignant. "whatever happens, don't let her bat those little eyes at you and convince you to stay up there and help her raise puck's kid. i don't care how fine her ass is, nothing's worth that."

"you've really got a thing for quinn's ass, don't you?" rachel asks, enjoying the moment of levity.

"i'm half asleep, berry. just get the hell out of there, and text me from the train, will you?"

"sure."


	12. Chapter 12

rachel hangs up the phone and starts to pack her things. the more she thinks about it, the angrier she gets, at puck, at quinn, at herself. this is a disaster, but it's not really hers to untangle, it's theirs, and the fact that she's stuck there in boston in the middle of it is infuriating.

quinn comes back inside just as rachel is zipping her bag shut.

"what are you doing?" quinn asks.

"packing," rachel says calmly, not turning around, unsure of what will happen to her if she has to look into quinn's eyes just then.

"don't leave." it's not a request, but it's not really a demand either. they both just let it hang there in the space between them.

rachel feels quinn's hands on her shoulders, and her spine tenses as she tries to straighten her posture, but a few tears slip out anyway. she brushes them away as casually as she can, desperate to minimize what, in actuality, feels like the end of the world.

"i saw you out there talking to puck. i figured with him on his way, you wouldn't want me-,"

"he's not coming," quinn interrupts, her voice a soft whisper in rachel's ear. "he didn't exactly offer, and i don't really want him here."

"oh." again rachel's caught between relief and rage. _he's not coming? he did this, and he's not even coming to do anything about it. but i'm here, and she wants me with her now instead of him. _

"i've made a doctor's appointment for this afternoon. just to make sure, you know? will you come with me?"

rachel's shoulders sag. it's impossible. she can't deny quinn anything, least of all this. she just nods, dropping her bag to the floor.

"i'll make us some breakfast," quinn says, her hands slipping from rachel's shoulders. rachel waits until quinn's left the room to text santana.

_i think i'm going to stay an extra day or so. she told puck; he isn't coming. _- r.

_do what you need to do, but if you're not home by friday, i'm coming up there. _- s.

in the waiting room at quinn's doctor's office, the absurdity of the situation really starts to soak in. rachel knows, without question, that if anyone should be there with quinn, it shouldn't be her. and yet, quinn chose her to be there. she's sickened by the odd sense of validation it gives her.

"well," quinn sighs, reaching for her hand as she comes back out into the waiting room, "it's for real."

rachel gives a terse nod and does her best not to make her quick glance to quinn's stomach more noticeable than it should be.

"do i look different?" quinn asks.

"no," rachel lies. _you look claimed_, she thinks. _you look like his._

"what are you going to do?" rachel asks as they drive back to quinn's house.

"what do you mean?"

rachel exhales. "i guess i don't really know what i mean."

"i don't see why anything has to change," quinn says, letting go of rachel's hand and gripping the steering wheel so hard rachel can see her knuckles turn white. her back straightens, and rachel sees her putting on that old, icy composure, that old tendency to lash out jumping to the surface. "i can still finish school, get my master's, and then i'll just take it from there."

on the one hand, rachel admires quinn's take-charge attitude, but on the other, she suspects quinn just hasn't let the gravity of the situation kick in yet. _everything has to change, quinn_, she wants to tell her. _you're going to have a baby, a whole extra person to consider. everything's going to change. everything already has changed_. but she doesn't say that, doesn't say anything. and when quinn re-intertwines their fingers, rachel just smiles and gives her hand a quick squeeze.

they finish out the week together unremarkably. rachel wakes up to quinn's soft smiles again the next morning, and they both carry on as if nothing has happened.

rachel goes back to new york on friday afternoon, just in time to stop santana from embarking on a search and rescue mission. she doesn't want to talk about it, and santana doesn't force her to. she starts work, and she and blaine settle into a routine at home.

although she left boston on good terms, she and quinn don't speak. she has no idea what to say, and everything she manages to come up with sounds wrong.

and then one night she comes home from work to find an email from quinn,

"just got this today; haven't shown anyone else yet. thought you'd want to see," is all it says.

she clicks on the attachment, and there it is, the first ultrasound image of quinn's baby. rachel's heart unexpectedly swells and her fingers extend toward the screen, but then the words, _not yours_, dart across her mind, and her fingers retract again in shame.

"not mine," she whispers, closing her laptop without sending a reply.


	13. Chapter 13

every few weeks, rachel looks over at kurt or blaine or santana and says, "it wasn't just all in my head, was it?"

kurt and blaine usually offer sympathetic shrugs; santana's a little more emphatic.

"no way, berry. that chick was all over you."

quinn occasionally sends her updates about the baby, often enough to keep the whole thing constantly in her thoughts. she tries to focus on her work, mind-numbing though it may be, and she tries to remember what santana told her, that nothing quinn could offer would be worth being stuck having to raise puck's kid for the rest of her life. it's a pretty cold thought, but the more she repeats it to herself, the further removed she feels from the entire situation, and the easier it is to brush it off.

she never once actually believes it though.

eventually her curiosity gets the better of her though, and she decides she needs to see quinn again. she knows santana will just try to talk her out of it, so she doesn't mention it to anyone, and she plans it for a weekend at the beginning of december when santana will be in california visiting brittany. quinn seems pleased when rachel calls and says she wants to spend the weekend with her, but not overly-so.

when rachel finally arrives on the doorstep at quinn's (she takes a cab from the train station in an effort to keep quinn from having to go out in the biting cold), she takes a moment to try to settle her nerves, but before she's gotten it done, quinn's throwing the door open to greet her.

the first thing rachel notices is that quinn's showing. maybe not so much that a stranger would be able to tell under the bulky layers required of a new england winter, but enough to keep rachel from being able to ignore the reality of the situation.

"just please don't say i'm glowing or anything like that, alright?" quinn says, setting two mugs of hot chocolate down on the coffee table. rachel rolls her eyes conspiratorially, but in truth, quinn _is _glowing, impossibly so, and rachel's just glad she didn't say it before hearing quinn's warning.

pregnancy seems to have brought all of quinn's need for control and perfection to a fevered pitch. she can't sit still, constantly getting up to fuss with things or get things she thinks rachel needs from the kitchen. rachel wishes she could just take quinn's hands and tell her that she's perfect, that everything's fine, but she can only imagine the type of fury doing something like that would unleash in quinn.

"did you hear puck moved up here?" quinn asks, sitting down briefly.

rachel nods. she's been getting drips and drabs of information through mike and tina, who moved to philadelphia together in the beginning of the fall, and who seem to know everything about everyone.

"it's so ridiculous." quinn gets up again and goes into the kitchen. "he drops his life and moves here, but he doesn't actually offer to help out or anything. he just sits in his filthy apartment and plays guitar hero all day or something."

rachel decides she's brave enough to ask a question, but she has no idea how to phrase it, so what comes out is, "do you think he'll be involved much with..." and then she loses steam. it's not even what she really wants to ask; it's not even a great approximation. what she really wants to say is, _do you still want him? and even if you don't, are you anchored to him for life now? and if i want to be with you, does that mean i am too?_

quinn only latches onto rachel's hesitation at the end of her question, though. "didn't i tell you?" she smirks. "it's a girl."

rachel feels that swelling in her chest again before she can help it. _a girl, she thinks. a beautiful little girl. just like quinn._

that night, rachel gets ready to sleep on the sofa, and quinn makes no effort to stop her, which is actually alright with rachel. as far as she's concerned, it's one thing to climb into bed with a straight girl who you think has invited you to boston to work out some curiosities, but it's another thing entirely to share a bed with somebody else's baby mama, even if that somebody else is noah puckerman.

it's cold, too cold to go out, so they spend most of the weekend watching tv under heavy blankets. the history channel is running a special about pirates, so they watch that for a little while.

"what do you think about a pirate theme for the nursery?" quinn asks.

rachel grins, "sounds perfect."

"it'd kill my parents," quinn says, only half-regretfully.

"i think it's a great idea," rachel reiterates.

after a couple of hours of pirate programming, quinn gets restless and starts cycling through the channels.

"oh my gosh! you get the oprah channel!" rachel exclaims, excitedly grabbing the remote from quinn's hand.

"seriously?" quinn says, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"it's so fascinating to watch her wield her empire, quinn, not to mention instructive!"

"hm. been spending a lot of time at home with blaine and kurt, i gather."

rachel rolls her eyes. "let's just watch for a little bit, please?"

quinn relents. about fifteen minutes into the show, however, rachel starts feeling drowsy and dozes off a bit, so she has no idea what quinn's talking about when she asks, "do you think that's still true?"

"what?" rachel asks, sleepily.

"that there are still people who can't imagine the future being different, better."

rachel thinks about it for a second. "sure. i mean, there are always going to be people who don't want things to change."

"but not wanting something to happen is different from not even being able to see it," quinn says. rachel furrows her eyebrows for a second, not totally understanding where quinn's coming from. "i don't know," she continues, "i guess i just feel like there's not a single thing that isn't at least possible."

rachel smiles, realizing it's the most introspective quinn's ever sounded without there being a trace of bitterness in her voice.

the rest of the weekend goes by much the same, and before rachel knows it she's back in new york, plunked down in some neighborhood bar listening to santana recount the salacious details of her weekend with brittany.

"that's disgusting," she says when santana's finally finished.

"aw, don't be jealous, berry," santana says, patting her on the back. "how was your weekend?"

"nothing special," she lies.

a few days later, while she and kurt are out doing some christmas shopping, she spots a beautifully illustrated edition of 'peter pan' and buys it on impulse.

"who's that for?" kurt asks.

"one of my little cousins back in indiana," rachel says.

"sure," kurt replies, not bothering to mention that all of rachel's relatives in indiana are jewish.

later that night before placing the book in a box addressed for boston, she slips a note into the front cover,

_merry christmas to quinn and baby fabray. a good book to read when you need a reminder that everything's possible, and great primer on running away to play pirates. with love, rachel berry._


	14. Chapter 14

with the new year comes more updates from quinn about the baby, and more sonogram pictures. rachel stops trying to figure it out, why she's the one quinn is sharing all this stuff with, but she still doesn't always respond.

sometimes entire weeks go by without her even thinking about quinn or the baby or what could have been, and other times, it's the only thing on her mind. it's too easy to slip into the fantasy that they're hers—the girl she loves, their baby—and that the only thing keeping them apart is distance. but rachel knows it's just a silly romantic daydream, like so many others she's had in her life, and she's quick to chastise herself every time she starts thinking that way.

in february, their applications for lima arrive. kurt and blaine fill theirs out right away, but for rachel and santana the decision is a little tougher because they each know quinn and brittany won't be there.

one night, as they sit in santana's living room, rachel spots a stack of sketches stuffed under a pile of magazines.

"what's this?" rachel asks, pulling the papers from the floor.

"just some ideas i had," santana replies vaguely. "set designs."

"oh, for a show at the theater?"

"no," santana says, taking the sketches from rachel's hands. "just something i was working on on my own; it's nothing."

"they look really interesting, santana," rachel says, encouragingly.

"of course they do," santana says with her usual confidence, "but there's no actual show, so what's the point?"

"you should talk to blaine," rachel says. "he's been trying to write some songs lately. maybe you two could work together on something."

"we'll see," santana says. "so...what's the deal? are we gonna do lima this year, or what?"

"i don't know," rachel sighs.

"well, we can't mope around here all summer, just because we don't have our blondes."

"i never had a blonde, santana," rachel reminds her.

"sure you did, berry. you two totally had each other; you just didn't know it," santana says sincerely.

"i know that can't be true," rachel replies wistfully.

"why?"

"because i want it too much."

santana smirks at her and leans back in her seat. "so when's the baby due?" she asks.

"april," rachel sighs, smiling dreamily, and she's surprised to see santana smiling as well.

on the morning of april 4th, rachel gets a call from a nervous-sounding older woman.

"is this...rachel berry?"

"yes?"

"this is judy fabray...quinn's mother. my daughter insisted that i call you right away and let you know...she's delivered the baby."

rachel opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out.

"hello?"

"yes, ma'am. i'm sorry. are they...is everything alright?"

"they're both fine. quinn handled the delivery beautifully."

rachel just silently nods, knowing how strong quinn is.

"well," the woman continues, "i need to get back."

"thank you for calling me, mrs. fabray. will you let quinn know i'm thinking of her?" rachel says. _and give her a kiss for me?_ she thinks.

it's not until after she's hung up that rachel lets the tears that have been welling up in her eyes fall. _i should have been there_, she thinks. and then she thinks that's a ridiculous thought. _they're ok_, she tells herself. _that's all that matters. any other thought is just selfishness._

a week or so later, rachel receives a birth announcement in the mail. her first reaction is relief that the newborn in the photograph bears almost no resemblance to noah puckerman. then she sees the name printed below the photograph: _elizabeth rachel fabray_.

her hands begin to tremble. she has no idea what to make of it. is it an apology? a wish? or is it just a name quinn likes that has nothing to do with her at all? santana, of course, has a clearer view of the matter: "fuck, berry. that's seriously passive aggressive."

the floodgates open after that. quinn bombards her with near-weekly photographs of beth. the emails they're attached to never really say much, and rachel only responds sporadically, quickly running out of ways to say, "she's beautiful, quinn."

in june, rachel, santana, kurt, and blaine head back to lima. without the distraction of quinn's presence, rachel really focuses on her students. the progress she makes with them is rewarding, but the nights and weekends are exponentially less interesting.

one night, the four of them go down to the bar and sing. after a few drinks, santana wows them with her karaoke-amy winehouse, after which kurt and blaine start fawning over her like she's some kind of power tool-wielding judy garland. rachel watches them, smiling, but doesn't join in the singing. she knows she'll only end up spoiling the mood by singing some regretful ballad.

when kurt and blaine launch into a madonna medley, santana slumps down on a barstool next to rachel and orders them a round of beers.

"you ever notice something about this place, berry?"

"what?"

"well, they pick us to come here and teach these kids because we're supposed to be like...the hot new shit, right?"

"alright," rachel concedes, though not entirely in agreement with santana's characterization.

"but not one of us has made it big yet," santana continues.

"except brittany," rachel smiles, patting santana's hand.

"except brittany," santana smiles. brittany's spending the summer on tour with some big pop star. rachel knows santana misses her dreadfully, but she also knows santana couldn't be prouder.

"how is she?" rachel asks.

"she's great," santana says, taking a long sip from her beer. "i was talking to her yesterday actually, and-," she hesitates, thoughtfully.

"if this is a phone sex thing, santana, i'm not really up for a recap tonight."

"no," santana scoffs. "it's not that. it's just...if you wanted to...you know...go a couple rounds...just for old time's sake. brittany said she'd be ok with that."

rachel chokes, coughing beer out onto the bar. "excuse me?"

santana rolls her eyes. "i just...i know you're lonely, berry. i might not be quinn fabray's biggest fan, but i know how you feel about her, and i can only imagine what this whole baby thing is doing to you. so brittany was just saying that-,"

"wait a minute. this is something you actually discussed with brittany?" rachel asks, incredulous.

"sure. why not? i mean, i know you and brittany don't know each other that well, but she really cares about you."

"i see," rachel says, giving santana a knowing smirk. "well, tell _brittany_ that i genuinely appreciate the offer, but i think i can manage just fine on my own for now."

"wanky," santana replies, clanking her bottle against rachel's.

mike and tina are getting married in philly after camp ends. just before they all leave lima, tina approaches rachel about it.

"i just wanted to let you know that puck's going to be in the wedding," she says. "i might not like him, but he's mike's friend, and i didn't feel like i could say no. i hope you'll still come."

rachel, of course, agrees to go. mike and tina have been good friends to her, and not being at their wedding just because puck will be there seems childish and melodramatic, even for her.

she makes good work of avoiding him throughout most of the wedding reception, but as soon as santana leaves her side, she's cornered, confronted with him and his stupid mohawk and his rotten whiskey breath.

"why don't you like me?" he asks, that smug expression stretching across his face.

she just swallows hard and looks over her shoulder to see if she can get in santana's eyeline.

"i know why," he says. her hands ball into fists.

"i'll bet you've got a picture of her in your wallet, don't you? and you think you're better than me because of it. but she'll always be mine, and not yours, no matter what."

and then they just stare at each other. what he's said is so bitingly true that rachel can hardly breathe. it doesn't matter. nothing she's ever felt or done or could do will ever matter. because he's done the one thing she can't, owns a part of quinn the way she never will, made a permanent mark on her life that rachel never could. she's about a second away from giving him the satisfaction of seeing her break down when she feels santana's arm slip around her shoulders and pull her away.

"what did he say to you?" santana asks when they're back out on the road home.

"just the truth," rachel sighs.


	15. Chapter 15

one afternoon, as the summer draws to a close, rachel goes out and buys a photo album. nothing fancy, just a plain black album where she can store all the pictures quinn's sent her over the last several months. she waits for a day when blaine isn't home, prints out all the photographs, and arranges them chronologically. then she hides the book at the back of her closet. she doesn't really know why she feels the need to hide it away like that; perhaps it's because she suspects there's something more than a little off about keeping a baby book of someone else's baby. and she can only imagine what santana would say if she knew.

life goes on. even though quinn keeps sending her pictures, and the two of them keep up with each other through the internet, rachel mostly puts quinn out of her mind.

brittany moves to new york, much to santana's delight, and with the help of some people she's met on tour, she opens her own dance studio. whenever santana talks about it, she beams with pride.

rachel goes back to work at her old receptionist job, which would be pure torture if it weren't for the cute blonde on the fifth floor of her office building who catches her eye. she has santana meet her for lunch one afternoon, just so she can get at look at her.

"so," rachel says, "what do you think?"

"it doesn't matter what i think," santana says, uncharacteristically fidgeting with her hands.

rachel's confused. "it's not like you to hold back on your opinions, santana, especially not with me."

"it really only matters what you think, berry. if you think she's cute, you should ask her out."

rachel sighs. santana takes a deep breath and says, "i think she looks an awful lot like quinn, berry. that's all. but that doesn't have to mean anything...unless it does."

rachel takes it as a challenge. it's the first real inkling of an idea of liking anyone she's had since meeting quinn, and now she feels like she has to prove it isn't about quinn at all. she starts pursuing the girl, who she finds out is named alison, with a vengeance. even when she finds out alison doesn't know a thing about broadway and has never even seen 'funny girl,' she forges ahead, and the next time a show opens at the theater where santana works, rachel asks alison to be her date.

by the end of that first date, it becomes fairly obvious that rachel and alison don't have much in common, so rachel tries to make up for it by sleeping with alison almost right away. because the truth is, she _is_ lonely. and it seems a shame to give up on someone who seems genuinely attracted to her just because she doesn't have any interest in musicals.

rachel puts her head down and pushes onward, building a relationship out of mutual physical attraction and what scraps of common ground she's able to cobble together. it's clear that her friends like alison even less than they liked quinn, and for a while, rachel doesn't see much of kurt or blaine or santana.

she makes a conscious decision not to tell alison about quinn, and by that time, aside from the photo album, there isn't anything to tell anyway. rachel finds out (through tina and mike) that quinn has a new boyfriend, some dopey-looking giant named finn hudson, and the photos of quinn and beth start coming less frequently. rachel tries not to give it too much thought.

before she knows it, six months go by. she and alison still see each other regularly, and even if rachel isn't as happy as she imagines she could be, she feels actively wanted, and that counts for a lot more than she knew before the whole quinn debacle.

one evening, when she's out doing some grocery shopping, quinn calls, and since quinn hasn't called in months, rachel decides to answer.

"what are you up to?" quinn asks.

"i'm shopping actually. it's um...alison and i have been seeing each other for six months, so i'm cooking dinner for us."

"that sounds nice," quinn says. "how's that going?"

"pretty great, actually," rachel says with as much enthusiasm as she can muster. she needs to make it sound better than it actually is because she needs quinn to know she's moved on. "what about you?"

"well," quinn says, "that's why i was calling you actually. finn and i took a weekend trip to new york a few weeks ago and...he proposed."

the grocery basket rachel's carrying slips from her grasp and lands on her foot.

"it was so amazing," quinn continues, "i really wish you would have been there, rachel. that was the only thing that was missing."

rachel feels that familiar quinn-confusion come over her, only now she's standing in the middle of a crowded market with a busted foot and a girlfriend waiting for her at her apartment, so she's not really in a good position to parse it out.

"can i call you back, quinn?" she says with more anger in her voice than she means to let slip.

"oh, sure," quinn says, with marked disappointment.

rachel hobbles out onto the sidewalk where she calls alison and begs off for the night, claiming to have a bad case of food poisoning. alison sounds neither suspicious nor concerned; that's just not the sort of relationship they have. and even though rachel's grateful to have her night cleared, there's still something a little sad about alison's lack of reaction.

rachel's next call, her next fourteen calls, are to santana, or rather, to santana's voicemail. she's sitting in their bar, sweating gin and placing the fifteenth call, when brittany comes in and sits down next to her.

"where's santana?" rachel asks.

"she had to work late, but she said you kept calling, and she was pretty worried about you, so she asked me to come by and check on you," brittany says, her usual friendly tone marked by only the slightest hesitation.

"quinn's engaged," rachel slurs, just before bursting into tears.

"oh," brittany says, wrapping her arms around rachel. "maybe we should go wait for santana at home."

rachel nods, and she feels brittany pulling her out of the bar. she leans on brittany through the short walk to the apartment, and brittany practically carries her up the stairs to the front door.

once inside, brittany pours rachel a giant glass of water and forces her stay awake long enough to drink it, all the while listening to her cry and moan about quinn without seeming even a little bit put out.

when santana finally gets home, brittany goes off to bed and leaves the two of them to talk it out in the living room.

"why would she say that to me, santana?" rachel slurs, more out of exhaustion than intoxication at that point. "i mean, in what possible universe would i be there when she's being proposed to?"

santana sighs, brushing a few stray strands of hair from rachel's forehead. "the one where you're doing the proposing, berry."

"i've got to break up with alison," rachel says, flatly.

"yeah, you do," santana agrees. "but not tonight, ok? tonight just get some rest."

"santana?"

"what?"

"brittany's great. don't let her get away from you."

santana grins. "don't worry; i've got it covered."


	16. Chapter 16

after breaking up with alison, a more painful exercise than she anticipated, she goes into seclusion for a few weeks, but in april (on beth's first birthday, she later realizes), rachel berry comes out of hiding.

"are you back?" santana asks pointedly when they meet for breakfast that morning.

"i am," rachel says confidently. "and i have big news."

"me too!" santana says, with uncharacteristic enthusiasm.

"you aren't engaged, are you?" rachel asks. santana grimaces. "don't get me wrong," rachel recovers, "you know i love brittany, and i love you two together; i just don't think i can take any more engagement news for a bit."

"well," santana concedes, "fortunately for you, that's not my news for the day, but when it is, you'd better come up with a more appropriate reaction, ok?"

"you can count on it," rachel smiles.

"excellent. let's hear your news then."

"i've decided it's time for rachel berry to return to the stage," rachel announces.

"thank god," santana interjects.

"so, i bit the bullet and called mr. schuester," rachel says. "he might be a bit of a hack, but he knows a lot of people here, and, long story short, i've got an audition in a few weeks. it's nothing big, off-broadway. but it would be a chance to sing on stage and get paid to do it."

"well, don't fuck it up this time, alright?" santana says.

rachel snorts. "i guess i should have expected you to say that." santana rolls her eyes affectionately. "now, your news!' rachel continues.

"ok, ok. well, do you remember a while back? those set designs you saw at my place? well, while you were having your little fling with what's her face, i took your advice and talked to blaine, and we've been playing around with some ideas."

"oh my goodness, santana, that's amazing!" rachel exclaims, practically bouncing in her seat.

"it's not anything to get excited about yet, berry," santana admits. "but...it's something to do."

things feel back on track for a while. rachel nails her audition, and with a loan from her dads, cuts back to part-time work when rehearsals start at the beginning of the summer. kurt, blaine, and santana continue to tinker around with ideas for a show (with rachel giving her input where she can), and by the fall, they seem to have a solid concept in mind. they all know it might never become anything or go anywhere, but it makes them all feel like they're doing something, like they're part of something special.

rachel's show starts in september. even though she's only in the chorus, kurt, blaine, santana, and brittany all make a concerted effort to go and see her perform as often as possible. being on stage again does wonders for rachel's confidence. she can actually feel her shoulders straightening and that energetic bounce returning to her step.

in october, quinn comes to the city for a conference and asks if rachel can meet her for a drink. rachel feels so good she agrees on the spot. she hasn't seen quinn, actually seen her, in almost two years, since that time in boston before beth was born. but this time, when she sees her sitting in a booth at the bar, something is different.

"you look so small," rachel murmurs, without even realizing it.

quinn looks momentarily confused before she replies with, "you only think so because the last time you saw me i was pregnant."

rachel blushes and shakes her head. the last thing she had wanted to do was start off by offending her, but the thing is, quinn does look smaller somehow, and it has nothing to do with the pregnancy. it's that, all of a sudden, she doesn't look so intimidating to rachel. sure, she's still unbearably beautiful. and the sight of her still makes rachel's heart pound and her palms sweat and her knees shake. but that glint of fear rachel used to feel, that thing that always made quinn seem so immediate and threatening and imposing is gone, and in it's place is just exhaustion and familiarity.

and then rachel notices quinn isn't wearing an engagement ring.

rather than let the unspoken question just hover between them getting her hopes up, rachel decides to take a different approach and ask about it right away.

"where's your engagement ring?"

quinn's tired eyes flutter down to her ring finger and back up at rachel. "oh," she says, "about that. i think we might have just gotten caught up in the whole weekend in new york, central park romance thing. i don't really think we're in any position to actually get married."

"and finn wasn't disappointed with that?" rachel asks tentatively.

"i'm sure he was," quinn scoffs. "but that's the way it is."

rachel nods and takes a sip of her drink as the knot around her heart slowly unties itself. quinn _isn't_ engaged. it doesn't really change anything, and yet, she feels just the tiniest blossom of hope open up inside her.

"i'm sorry i couldn't make it to your show," quinn says.

"oh, that's alright. it's nothing really, just an ensemble part."

"i'm sure no one can take their eyes off you, though. i know i wouldn't be able to," quinn confesses.

and just like that, they're back to where they started. talking, flirting, falling in love all over again. they spend the better part of an hour talking about rachel's show, santana and blaine's project, and quinn's teaching program, before the conversation turns to beth.

"i can't believe i haven't met her yet," rachel says.

"she's a handful, rachel," quinn replies. "only a year and a half and already talking up a storm and getting into everything. plus, she can be pretty aggressive when she doesn't get her way."

"i can't imagine where she gets that from," rachel smirks. quinn blushes and nudges rachel's shoulder with her own. rachel laughs playfully and looks over at quinn. their eyes meet, and for a split second, that old fire is back in quinn's eyes and rachel's convinced quinn's going to lunge at her and kiss her. but then quinn looks away, and it's gone again.

not long after that, they part ways. quinn goes back to her hotel, and rachel goes home. unable to sleep, she fishes the photo album from her closet and goes into the living room to pour herself a glass of water. she puts on her favorite barbra record and sits down on the couch to look at the pictures. and that's exactly where blaine finds her when he gets home.

"what are you looking at?" he asks, sitting down next to her.

rachel decides it's too late to lie, so she goes ahead and tells him the truth about the photo album.

"nobody else knows about it," rachel says after her explanation. "you probably think i'm crazy. but the truth is, i think i could have let quinn go by now if it weren't for beth."

"what do you mean?" blaine asks, watching as she delicately turns the pages.

"i know i've never met her, but...i feel connected to her somehow. i guess because i was there when quinn found out...and i thought,-" rachel swallows hard before starting over. "even though i'll probably never get to know her, i care about her so much," she sighs. "and in the beginning, when quinn was sending me all these pictures and updates, it was so easy to pretend."

"pretend what?"

"that quinn really did want me; that we'd all be together eventually." rachel sighs, closing the album and running her hands lovingly over its cover. "i need to get some sleep," she says.

blaine smiles and says, "for the record, rachel, i don't think you're crazy...but i can see why you wouldn't want to tell santana about it."

a few days later she comes home to find some sheet music on her bed with a note from blaine:

_please don't take this the wrong way, but i couldn't stop thinking about our conversation the other night._

it's still a bit rough, but by the time rachel gets to the chorus, she finds she's singing along with the words on the page:

_will we ever have our happy ending, or will we forever only be pretending?_


	17. Chapter 17

rachel finishes out her run in the show in the spring and immediately gets an offer for another role that summer, giving her only a few weeks to relax and catch her breath. and in that time, there's only one thing she can think of that she'd like to do.

"are you sure, rachel?" quinn asks, when rachel calls her.

"of course i'm sure. my dads haven't used the cabin in a while, and i really need to relax before my next audition.

"well, i'm not sure how much relaxing you'd get done with me and the gremlin around."

"quinn, i'm sure beth's a perfectly lovely little girl, and i really want to spend some time with both of you. please?"

at last, quinn agrees to meet rachel at her dads' cabin in vermont, but not for the whole week, just a few days. rachel spends the first part of the week luxuriating in the peace and quiet and making sure everything is perfect for quinn and beth.

when quinn and beth finally arrive on wednesday evening, rachel watches from the porch with nervous anticipation as quinn reaches into the backseat to unbuckle beth from her car seat and the tiny golden-haired angel she's only ever seen in photographs scrambles out of the car.

to her utter amazement, beth runs right for her, exclaiming, "rachel! rachel!"

"how does she-?" rachel starts to ask, lifting beth onto her hip.

"oh," quinn smiles, "we look at our rachel's picture all the time, don't we beth?" she continues, walking over and rubbing beth's back.

beth grins, nodding, and buries her head in the crook of rachel's neck. "rachel sings pretty," beth says.

quinn blushes, "that's right, baby."

"i'm so glad you finally came to see me, beth," rachel says, dropping a kiss onto the top of beth's head. for a moment, everything feels perfect. with beth in her arms and quinn at her side, rachel feels like she can see all the way into another lifetime, all the way to perfect.

"well," she says, shaking herself out of her reverie, "let's get you both in and settled."

that first night, quinn insists on making dinner for them, so rachel plays with beth on the floor in the living room while quinn cooks. for all quinn's warnings about beth's disposition, rachel finds her to be delightful, smart, inquisitive, and determined. she's so clearly quinn's child that rachel's only misgiving is that she's only now getting to know her.

they have a pleasant dinner all together, and, because it's getting late, they all decide to get some sleep. rachel makes sure quinn and beth are comfortable in the guest room before climbing into her own bed and falling asleep.

a few hours later, though, she's awakened by the sound of beth screaming. she leaps out of bed and rushes into the guest room to find a panicked quinn rocking beth, desperate to quiet her down.

"i'm so sorry, rachel," she whispers, "she has night terrors sometimes."

"is she alright?" rachel asks, sitting down at the foot of the bed.

"yeah," quinn says, "she'll be fine. i'm just so sorry she woke you."

"it's ok, quinn," rachel says sincerely, "can i get you girls anything?"

"no," quinn shakes her head, regretfully, "just try and get back to sleep." rachel reluctantly goes back to bed.

the next day, she takes quinn and beth into town to go window shopping and have lunch. quinn struggles to get beth into the stroller, but beth stomps her foot, shouting, "i walk! rachel hand!"

quinn gets exasperated, but rachel just giggles and takes beth's hand. "it's fine, quinn. i don't mind." the three of them walk from shop to shop, laughing and talking, and by lunchtime, quinn seems to have relaxed a bit.

"there's a park nearby," rachel says, while they eat. "i thought maybe we could take beth to play."

"i don't know, rachel," quinn says. "beth isn't always well-behaved around other kids."

"oh, come on," rachel pouts, "i'm sure she'll be alright, won't you, beth?"

beth scrunches her nose and grins conspiratorially.

at the park though, beth does start chasing the other kids around, screaming, "leave me alone!" until quinn gets so embarrassed that she scoops her up and starts chastising her.

"don't be too hard on her," rachel says, reaching to take beth into her arms. "we've had a long day, and she's been a perfect angel up to now."

quinn rolls her eyes, throwing her hands up, but takes rachel's hand as they walk back to the car and head back to the cabin.

the rest of the weekend goes perfectly except for the fact that rachel has to constantly reassure quinn that there's nothing wrong with beth. it breaks her heart a little to see how self-conscious quinn is about beth's behavior, when really she's just like any other energetic two year old.

quinn cooks again on the last night, while rachel and beth cuddle up to watch "the sound of music." beth is enthralled by the movie, and rachel pauses it now and again to teach beth the songs and dances. it's the best rachel's ever felt, better than being on stage, better than anything.

the next morning when they leave, beth hugs rachel tightly around the neck before quinn takes her and puts her into the car. then quinn walks back over, takes rachel's hand, and presses a feather-light kiss to rachel's cheek.

"thank you for this," she says quietly. "everything was perfect, and you were so sweet with her. you'll have to come and see us soon."

rachel grins and nods, her cheek still burning from where quinn's soft lips brushed her skin. "i will," she promises.

quinn gives her hand a final squeeze before getting into the car and driving away. rachel just stands there smiling, long after they've driven out of sight.


	18. Chapter 18

rachel's next role keeps her busy through the summer, so the next chance she gets to see quinn and beth isn't until september. the entire familiar train ride up to boston her knees bounce nervously as she thinks of the last time she saw quinn and the gentle kiss quinn had given her on the cheek. by normal standards, it probably isn't much to be excited about, but in terms of rachel and quinn's relationship (whatever that may be), it's a great leap forward.

"it's open!" quinn calls when rachel knocks on her door.

rachel opens the door to find beth standing on the other side with her hands on her hips. "rachel berry," she says in a sassy tone.

rachel laughs. "yes, ma'am, that's me. but where's my little munchkin, beth?"

"i'm not a munchkin!" beth shouts, stomping her foot.

"oh, that's right," rachel says, thoughtfully, "i forgot. you aren't a munchkin at all; you're a horrible little gremlin!" she swoops beth into her arms and tickles her until they fall into a giggling heap on the sofa.

"what is going on out here?" quinn asks, coming out of the kitchen.

"nothing," rachel and beth answer in unison.

quinn just shakes her head. "do you think you two can behave long enough to let me finish making dinner?"

"probably not," rachel concedes, "but you just go on ahead." quinn rolls her eyes and goes back into the kitchen.

"i got you a present, beth," rachel says, pulling the girl onto her lap. "do you want to see?" beth nods emphatically. rachel reaches over into her bag and pulls out a dvd of "my fair lady." "remember when we learned to sing like maria?" rachel asks, referencing their "sound of music" experience.

"do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do!" beth sings, just like rachel taught her.

rachel beams. "that's right! well, this movie has lots of songs, too, and it's all about a girl named 'eliza doolittle.'" beth gives a giggle at the funny-sounding name. "what do you say later we put it on and learn some songs?" rachel asks. beth nods again enthusiastically.

"i heard they're planning a revival of that next year," quinn calls from the kitchen.

"they are," rachel calls back, "and guess who'll be auditioning for 'eliza' in january." rachel hears the metal clang of a pan hitting the floor and prays she hasn't ruined their dinner with her announcement.

quinn comes racing back out of the kitchen. "are you serious?" she asks. "why didn't you tell me before?"

"i only just found out about it," rachel says, kissing beth on the head and lifting her from her lap. "and i wanted to surprise you." quinn takes rachel's hands and pulls her from the sofa into a tight embrace.

"broadway. wow," quinn says. "i know you'll get it. i told you you'd find something," she continues quietly, with just the smallest touch of sadness in her voice. rachel remembers that night back in lima. _if tonight's been any indication,_ quinn had said,_ i know you'll find something. i mean, you're ridiculously talented, and you're certainly an attractive girl_.

just as the thought occurs to rachel that this embrace has gone on for far too long to be considered just friendly, she feels beth's arms wrapping around her legs. she and quinn both laugh, and quinn pulls away. "i'm going to go finish dinner," quinn says, ducking her head so rachel can't see her face, but for a split second rachel thinks she sees tears welling up in quinn's eyes.

"i was thinking we could take beth to the museum of science tomorrow, if you're up for it," quinn says over dinner.

"of course!" rachel says, "i've never been, so that should be a lot of fun."

"beth loves it there," quinn smiles, "especially the dinosaurs."

"grah!" beth growls, doing her best dinosaur impression from her booster seat.

that night, beth snuggles between rachel and quinn on the sofa as they watch "my fair lady." occasionally they stop when there's a song beth really wants to hear rachel sing to her. halfway through the movie, rachel looks over to see quinn staring at her with tears in her eyes again.

"you're going to be incredible," she whispers to rachel over the top of beth's head, brushing away the rogue tear that dares to slip out.

"i don't have the part yet, quinn" rachel reminds her.

"yes, you do," quinn says, turning her focus to the tv screen.

the next day, as they are loading the car, quinn's phone rings. "i'll be right back," she sighs, leaving beth and rachel outside while she goes in to take the call. she reappears a few minutes later with a disappointed look on her face.

"what's wrong?" rachel asks.

"it looks like finn is going to meet us at the museum," quinn says, buckling beth into her car seat.

"oh," rachel says, getting into the car. "i didn't know you were still seeing him."

quinn just sighs and shrugs, not offering any further explanation.

rachel's heart thuds heavily in her chest at the prospect of meeting finn, but after only a few minutes, she knows he's no competition. finn is big and clumsy and for someone who's been dating a girl with a child for such a long time, he seems to have absolutely no idea what to do with beth. he doesn't hold a single door open for quinn to push the stroller through, and when quinn excuses herself to go to the bathroom and beth starts crying, he just stands there, not even bothering to find out what she needs.

back at quinn's, after beth's gone to bed, the three of them sit down on the couch to watch tv, and without warning, finn is all over quinn. at first rachel's horrified, but then she almost has to laugh. _is this guy really so threatened by me that he has to mark his territory right here on the couch while we're watching the ten o' clock news?_ and then she thinks, _why would he even be threatened by me in the first place?_

she can't remember having done a single thing all day that would trigger any sort of suspicion, so he has no reason to be jealous unless...unless quinn's told him something. but even then, what on earth could quinn have said to him? for whatever clandestine romance that's gone on in rachel's mind, the reality of the situation is, they've never been anything other than friends, and sometimes hardly even that.

beth has a night terror and starts crying for quinn, and finn throws his hands up in frustration. "can't you do something about that?" he says angrily. quinn hurries off into beth's room, leaving finn and rachel alone on the couch. rachel wants to scream at him, slap him, and throw him out, but most of all she wants to ask him, _what did she tell you about me?_ before she can do anything, though, he stalks off into quinn's bedroom.

eventually, quinn comes out of beth's room, looking exhausted and defeated.

"is she alright?" rachel asks, expectantly.

"yeah," quinn sighs. "did finn leave?"

"he's in your bedroom," rachel says, eyebrows raised.

quinn closes her eyes and shakes her head. "i'm so sorry, rachel."

"i don't guess he's going to leave tonight, is he?" rachel asks, trying to mask her anger.

quinn lets out a deep breath. "i'm sorry," she says again.

"it's fine," rachel says flatly, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch and lying down to go to sleep.

in the morning she's awakened by the sound of the television being switched on and turns over to see beth sitting on the floor.

"beth," rachel whispers to her groggily.

"mommy and finn fighting," beth says sadly. rachel listens closely and hears the sound of hushed, angry voices coming from quinn's room.

"come here, gremlin," she sighs. beth switches the tv off, climbs onto the couch, and snuggles into rachel's side. rachel starts to sing, just softly enough in beth's ear to drown out quinn and finn, and before long, she and beth are both back asleep.

an hour or so later, she's awakened again by the sound of the front door slamming. she glances nervously down at beth, who is tangled in her arms and, mercifully, still asleep. she gently gets up, careful not to disturb beth's sleep, and goes into quinn's room. quinn is sitting at the foot of her bed with her head in her hands, crying.

"what happened?" rachel asks.

"i wish you hadn't seen all this," quinn says, trying desperately to regain her composure. "i just...i wanted to show you that i had it all together. really. that's all i wanted this weekend. and i begged him not to come around...because...i just didn't want you to know, rachel. i didn't want you to see this."

rachel just breaks. if that's what quinn is upset about then she obviously has no idea how rachel really feels about her, has felt, all this time. and rachel can't believe she's been so foolish to believe all over again that this wasn't just some daydream of hers. she knots her fingers, thinking of the best way to say what she feels without actually saying what she feels.

"how could you possibly think that?" she starts. "don't you know i—," her eyes are closed, so she doesn't see the way quinn's eyes dart up to her in anticipation before she starts over. "quinn, you're perfect. and beth...beth is an amazing little girl. you're doing all of this on your own, and you're fine, quinn. you're fine. and screw him and anybody else who doesn't think so."

it's only about a third of the speech she really wants to give. and honestly, she's so tired of this talking-but-not-really-talking she and quinn have been doing for years that she considers just pushing quinn back on the bed and kissing her until they both pass out from oxygen deprivation. but quinn just looks so raw and vulnerable that rachel can't bear to spring that on her now that it's so painfully clear that it's been a one-sided thing all this time.

they have just enough time for a quick lunch before rachel has to catch her train. quinn's already emailed her a set of photographs from the weekend by the time she gets home (and she's edited out any trace of finn). rachel prints them, slides them into her photo album, and puts it away again. another six months go by.


	19. Chapter 19

in march, she gets the call she's been waiting for her entire life. rachel berry is going to star on broadway. after her dads, the first person she tells is quinn.

before rehearsals begin, brittany and santana throw her a surprise party at their apartment to celebrate the news. rachel's shocked to see how many people come to show their support and wish her well. and she's positively floored when she sees quinn coming through the door.

"i didn't expect you to come all this way," rachel says, hugging her tightly.

"i wanted to be here," quinn says, sincerely.

"where's beth?" rachel asks.

"at home with my mom," quinn replies. "she's so proud of you, rachel. we both are."

"you'll bring her to see the show, won't you?"

"of course," quinn laughs. "we wouldn't miss it."

"alright, listen up!" santana shouts from the center of the living room. "tonight we're celebrating berry's big broadway breakthrough, and i'm sure over the next year we'll all be hearing her sing 'the rain in spain' until we're all just sick of the sound of her voice. so tonight, instead of having our guest of honor sing, britt and i decided it would be a nice idea to have your friends sing for you, berry. so, i guess britt and i will kick things off."

"did you know about this part?" rachel asks quinn.

"maybe," quinn smirks.

rachel smiles and pulls quinn over to the sofa to sit beside her as brittany and santana launch into a duet of melissa etheridge's "come to my window." when they've finished, a group of rachel's friends from nyu get up to sing.

"that song was _so_ brittany's idea," rachel laughs, as santana takes a seat on the other side of her.

santana rolls her eyes. "whatever, berry. we rocked it."

"you did," rachel concedes. "it's just funny how whipped you are."

"can it, eliza," santana grumbles.

as the night goes on, blaine does a swoon-worthy performance of "on the street where you live." kurt stuns them all with his rendition of "rose's turn." even mike and tina join in the fun, doing an adorable song and dance duet.

finally, as the party starts to die down, blaine walks over to quinn and says, "are you ready?" quinn looks over at rachel, then back at blaine, and nods. he offers his hand, which she takes, and he leads her to the front of the room. she smiles nervously as blaine takes a seat at the piano.

"i'm not really a singer," quinn says to the group. "but blaine has been helping me with this. so, i guess we're all about to find out if voice lessons over the phone work or not."

and then, before rachel is entirely ready for the moment, quinn starts to sing,

_forgive me, lover, for i have sinned, for i have done you wrong. for i have hurt beyond repair, and when tears occurred, no, i didn't care. forgive me, lover, for i have sinned for i have loved you wrong._

rachel knows her own voice is stellar, polished, made for broadway. she knows the effect it can have, seen it bring crowds of people to their feet in applause. but something about the untrained raspiness of quinn's voice has all her senses unraveling almost immediately. rachel feels herself break out in a sweat. she presses her legs together and glances around nervously, wondering if anyone else knows what quinn is doing to her in that moment.

and then she thinks, _to hell with it. this is probably the closest i'm ever going to get._ her eyes slip closed and her mouth falls open, and it isn't until it's over and santana is pulling her outside into the night air on the back patio that she realizes she's been panting hard.

"you want to tell me what that was?" santana asks, but rachel knows she already knows. "you know, i haven't given you any advice about quinn in a while because honestly, i really thought you needed to just focus on getting back on stage. but now that you're gonna be a big star and everything, i think you should know that you have been totally screwing this up from day one."

"pardon me?" rachel asks.

"quinn's in love with you, berry. and you're just going to let her get away from you…again."

"she's not," rachel whispers, already feeling her throat closing and tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

"get a grip, berry. she just song-fucked you in front of a room full of people. what are you waiting for, an engraved invitation to her underpants?"

rachel huffs out a laugh, causing a few tears to spill. "if it were meant to be, it would have happened by now. don't you think?"

"no," santana says pointedly. "think about it, berry. there are a hundred and fifty reasons why it hasn't gone down yet between you two, not the least of which is that quinn is the most uptight little-,"

"watch it," rachel cautions.

"ok," santana relents. "but seriously. until you, she probably never even realized she was into girls, so there was _that_ whole freak-out, which, i've got to hand it to her, she went for the brass ring with the whole gay-panic-resulting-in-the-birth-of-a-child thing. so now she has this whole other person she has to consider. and if you thought she had some wicked control issues before, just imagine how having a kid intensified that."

rachel looks at santana in bewilderment. "i'd never do anything to hurt beth," she says.

"of course you wouldn't. but, the fact remains, quinn has been programmed her entire life to eradicate any threats to her system, and you, berry, are a definite threat. if she gives in to you, her whole life is going to have to change. and beth's too."

"so what am i supposed to do?"

"stop waiting for her to come to you. if you want her, you're going to have to take her."

"that's just ridiculously barbaric," rachel scoffs. "not to mention anti-feminist."

"you didn't seem to have a problem when it was me," santana points out. rachel blushes recalling their heated tumble in lima.

"what if i tell her i love her, and she sends me away?" rachel asks, timidly.

"then i won't have to worry about getting bumped down on the list of people you thank when you win the tony," santana smirks.

rachel laughs again, in spite of herself. "alright," she sighs, drying her tears.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>several recent reviewers have accused me of being a vicious heart breaker, and one of you in particular suggested that i was the "evil genuis" behind "an elaborate plot to kill off lesbians with heartbreak." i'd just like to point out that getting rid of lesbians would genuinely be a self-defeating endeavor for me, and even i'm not that self-destructive. :)


	20. Chapter 20

once she makes the decision to do something, everything else comes easily. it's been that way for rachel for as long as she can remember. when it came to getting out of indiana, getting into nyu, even making it to broadway, all rachel has ever had to do is decide she's going to make something happen. it's only the deciding that's difficult.

so when, after almost four years of agonizing over what she should do, rachel finally decides to tell quinn how she feels, the next few steps come so easily it's almost laughable. when she and santana come back inside, all of the party guests, including quinn, have left. while kurt ribs her about her reaction to quinn's performance, blaine (who's been in on this at least long enough to give quinn telephonic singing lessons, and maybe even longer than that) just writes down the name of quinn's hotel and her room number and takes rachel downstairs to get a cab.

she's strangely calm on the cab ride over, on the walk across the hotel lobby, on the elevator ride up to quinn's room. it all seems so clear now. even if it means losing quinn, losing beth, losing everything, she's suddenly determined not to let another day go by without knowing where they stand.

before she knows it, quinn is letting her into her room, those intrepid hazel eyes just ever so slightly rimmed in red, and rachel knows exactly what she has to do. without even bothering to try and explain, rachel just reaches a hand up to pull quinn's face toward hers. she goes up on her toes.

and then, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, rachel berry is kissing quinn fabray.

the full impact of the kiss doesn't hit her right away. maybe it's because she's imagined it so many times and been convinced for so many years that her imagination is the only place where this could happen. so it's several seconds before she realizes quinn is actually kissing her back, hungrily so. and then she feels one of quinn's hands on the small of her back, pulling their bodies closer together. quinn breaks the kiss to catch her breath, and rachel begins the attack on quinn's jawline and down into the exquisite column of her throat.

"wait. rachel, wait," quinn manages to pant out. "we can't do this."

"don't you want it?" rachel whispers confidently into the skin along quinn's collarbone.

"god, _yes_," quinn groans, throwing her head back and reaching up to tangle her fingers in rachel's hair.

"then i think we've been _not doing this_ for long enough," rachel says, punctuating her statement with a nip of her teeth.

quinn wimpers and pulls away. "i can't," she says, a sob threatening to pull loose from her chest.

and then suddenly all the words just start pouring out of rachel. "i love you. i love you, quinn, and i love beth. and i think you love me. i think you've loved me this whole time. only you were scared at first because i'm a girl and you weren't expecting that, and now you're scared because you think i'm just some silly thing who can't take care of you and beth. or because you just don't want to admit that you even want anyone to take care of you in the first place which is why you're dating that useless behemoth who doesn't even bother to try. but i could, quinn. i swear i could. if you'd just let me try, quinn, please."

tears are flowing freely down quinn's face at this point, and she doesn't even bother brushing them away. she just shakes her head in frustration and bewilderment and goes to sit at the foot of the bed as rachel starts in again, this time, in a slightly calmer tone.

"i know you and beth have a whole life that doesn't include me. and i'd be a fool to think i could just waltz in and be-," she pauses, not knowing how to finish that sentence. _your partner? beth's mother?_

she takes a deep breath and starts over again. "what do i have to do to show you i'm serious about this? i'll do anything, quinn. i'll quit the show and move to boston if that's what it takes."

quinn's eyes suddenly dart up from the floor to meet rachel's. "that's exactly what i _don't_ want," she says through clenched teeth. rachel opens her mouth to respond, but quinn continues. "you already gave up your dream once, rachel. for someone who didn't love you, didn't deserve it."

"are you saying you don't love me?" rachel asks quietly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

quinn draws in a deep breath before answering. "i love you so much, rachel. and you're right; i was scared. i was twenty-two years old and suddenly there i was, wanting you more than i ever wanted any _boy_friend i'd ever had. and i couldn't make it stop. no matter how hard i tried, it just kept...coming out. so i let puck...," her face crumples into a sob.

in a flash, rachel is sitting next to her, brushing her tears away and kissing her forehead, mumbling comforting words into her skin, "shh. it's ok. it doesn't matter now."

"of course it matters," quinn sighs, pulling away from rachel again. "don't you understand? i was ready to tell you that time when you came to stay with me in boston, but then it was too late. i found out i was pregnant, and i couldn't...i couldn't ask you to take that on. the best i could hope for was that we would stay friends, and that somehow, even from a distance, i could make myself believe...," she trails off again, fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

"believe what, quinn?" rachel urges, taking quinn's hands into her own.

"that she was ours, yours and mine, and not the product of this huge mistake i'd made."

and there it is. four years of half-truths, of signs and signals, of clues and misdirection, and now rachel knows all she needs to know.


	21. Chapter 21

quinn stiffens suddenly, her tone becoming icy, "i shouldn't have told you that; i swore to myself i wouldn't."

"why not?" rachel asks.

"because i refuse to let us become your responsibility!" quinn says, indignantly. "you've got something so special, rachel. it's not just talent; it's something more than that. and you have to go wherever that takes you. you can't have me and some kid you never intended to have holding you back."

"but it's my choice, quinn. don't you see that? i love performing; i'll always love it. but it's nothing compared to what i feel for you. and whatever sacrifices i end up making either way are mine to make."

"but why?" quinn breathes out. "after everything i've put you through, why would you still want me?"

rachel knows there are at least a million answers to that question, but she's _so _tired of talking, so instead she cups quinn's face in her hands and goes back to kissing her, only more gently this time. there's still a part of her that needs quinn to be the initiator here, in at least some small way, so she keeps things light until quinn makes a move. rachel knows how close she is to getting everything she wants, and she's not about to blow it by pushing quinn too far too fast.

after a few more minutes of kissing, she hears the double thud of quinn's shoes hitting the floor as she kicks them off. it's the smallest of gestures, but that's all it takes for rachel to know it's alright to keep going.

and so she does, pressing quinn down on her back, her kisses becoming more heated, her hands more frantic in their search for bare skin, until at last they're both undressed and tangled together beneath the sheets of the hotel bed.

rachel thinks she's prepared for all this, but it turns out there's not a single thing that could ever have prepared her for the sight of a naked quinn smiling shyly beneath her. for that voice, whispering low in her ear, urging her on. for quinn's hands to be so gently unsure, and yet so eager to touch, to explore, to please. and rachel wants it to last, _god_, does she want it to last. but the moment quinn moans out her name, rachel doesn't have the willpower to draw things out anymore. she just wants to do whatever she has to do to get quinn to keep moaning like that. and as soon as quinn lets go beneath her, rachel can't help but tumble after her.

in the morning, it takes a second for rachel to remember where she is. and when she realizes she's naked, with quinn's arms wrapped protectively around her, she's sure she must be dreaming. but then quinn suddenly pulls her closer, pressing the softest kisses to the back of her shoulder.

"good morning," rachel giggles.

"we're really here," quinn whispers.

rachel turns around in quinn's arms just in time to brush a falling tear from quinn's face. "we are. finally. don't cry anymore, sweetheart."

quinn takes a deep breath. "can i-?" she starts nervously, "i mean...was everything...alright...last night?"

rachel blushes, giggling again. "you couldn't tell?"

quinn bites her lip, blushing back, "well, i thought so, but...you know, i pride myself on perfection." she pushes rachel onto her back and starts kissing down the side of her neck.

"in that case," rachel laughs, "feel free to practice your technique."

quinn looks back up at rachel and smiles. "i love you," she says.

in that moment, looking into quinn's eyes, rachel's heart seizes in her chest. "i love you, too."

just then, quinn's phone rings, breaking them out of their bliss. quinn groans, rolling her eyes. "i'm sorry. i have to get that. it might be beth."

"of course," rachel says.

quinn sits, pulling the sheets up to cover herself, and takes her phone from the side table. "hi, mom," she says. "no, it's fine. go ahead and put her on. hi, baby! you are? that's great. i'm coming home tonight, ok? be good. rachel?" quinn covers the receiver with her hand and whispers to rachel, "she wants to know if i'm with you. i think she wants to talk to you." rachel nods, smiling. "sure, baby. here. hold on," quinn says, passing the phone to rachel.

"hi, gremlin!" rachel says.

"rachel!" beth squeals.

"how are you?"

"gramma judy taking me to the zoo!"

"she is? well, that's very nice of her."

"when you come see me?" beth asks.

"i don't know, gremlin. soon, i hope."

"i miss you."

it takes all of rachel's concentration not to burst into tears at that point. "i miss you, too. here, talk to mommy, ok?" she passes the phone back to quinn.

quinn finishes up with beth and her mom, hangs up the phone, then leans over to kiss rachel soundly.

"promise me you won't give up the show."


	22. Chapter 22

if rachel had her way, that would be the end of it. quinn and beth would move to new york, she'd star in the show and win a tony, and they'd all live happily ever after. but, as quinn's warned her repeatedly, it's not just rachel berry's world anymore. so instead they make a compromise. she agrees not to quit the show, and in return quinn agrees to start thinking about moving.

rehearsals begin for "my fair lady" in april. the work is gratifying, but grueling. she tries to zip out to boston on her free days, but soon finds she's too exhausted to do much but sleep in quinn's arms before she has to get back on the train.

it's hard, harder than anything rachel's ever done before. between the constant pressure of the show and her constant longing to be with quinn, rachel feels like she's being torn in half. the only consolation is that quinn loves her, really loves her, and she knows it now.

it surprises rachel how, after years of being quiet about their feelings, quinn is suddenly so open. she constantly leaves rachel messages sending her love and reminding rachel to take care of herself, and they try to talk on the phone before bed each night.

on one such call, two weeks before opening night, rachel nervously opens the conversation with, "something happened today that i need to tell you about."

"ok. are you alright? you aren't hurt, are you? is there someone i need to kill?" quinn asks, a bit frantically.

"i'm alright. it's just that...well...i have this picture in my dressing room...you know the one of me, you, and beth from her birthday? and one of my cast mates saw it and asked me if she was my daughter, and i said yes."

"and?"

"and you aren't upset about that?"

"of course not. why would i be?"

"because it's not true!"

"sure it is, rachel. i told you i-,"

"i know," rachel interrupts. "and it means the world to me that you think of it that way. and part of me felt really good to say it out loud, but another part of me felt really awful claiming her as mine."

quinn laughs, "oh, come on, she's not so bad. the gremlin part only _really_ comes out if you don't feed her on time."

"that's not what i meant, quinn fabray, and you know it," rachel says sternly. "it's just that i've already missed out on so much with her, with both of you, and i'm still missing out on so much. and besides, it hardly seems right for me to claim her when you're the one doing all the work!"

"don't worry," quinn says wryly, "i'll make sure you get your turn, preferably during her teenage years. you can do all the work then, ok?"

"i'm serious, quinn. being apart from you like this is breaking my heart. i want to be there to tuck her in at night, and god knows i'm dying to be able to tuck _you_ in once in a while."

"ok, ok, rach, calm down. you've been working twelve, fifteen hours a day, so i doubt you have much time for tucking anyone in at this point, don't you think?"

"i just miss you. i thought i used to miss you, before, but this is different," rachel sighs.

"i know," quinn says sincerely, "i miss you, too, which is why i'm about to tell you this even though it was supposed to be a surprise."

"oh, what? what?" rachel asks excitedly.

"well, i've been talking to blaine," quinn starts.

"you two are always up to something, huh?"

"you love it," quinn smirks. "anyway, i've been talking to blaine, and he's been thinking that it's about time for him and kurt to move in together anyway. so, when beth and i come for opening night, i was thinking maybe we would...stay...for a while...and see how things go."

"are you serious? oh my god, quinn, are you serious? it'll be so perfect; i promise. you and beth will be so happy here, i just know it."

"i have to be able to find a job, rach, and a school for beth, and i have to be able to afford it, and we have to not kill each other."

"we'll work it all out, you'll see. oh, quinn. this means so much to me. i love you so much."

"i guess i must love you, too," quinn sighs. "now, you need to get some rest, love. did you eat anything when you got home?"

"yes, i did, i promise. and i'm going to bed right now. kiss beth for me in the morning, and kiss yourself for me all the time."

"alright," quinn laughs. "goodnight, rachel."

"goodnight, quinn."

the bouquet of violets, eliza doolittle's flower, arrives in rachel's dressing room on opening night with a note: _we could not be more proud of you or love you more. your girls, quinn and beth_. and even though rachel can't see them from the stage through the glare of the lights, she knows they're there: quinn in her simple black dress (more nervous for rachel than rachel is for herself), and beth in purple (grinning broadly and believing, despite the packed theater, that her rachel is singing just for her).

the rest of them are there as well: brittany and (a less-enthusiastic, though wildly supportive) santana, kurt and blaine, and rachel's dads (both of whom were immediately enchanted by quinn and beth, though a bit shocked to learn about them after all this time).

it comes to no one's surprise when the show is a success, and rachel's perfect in it, engaging, sympathetic, funny, and with a voice from another world. quinn manages to land a teaching job at CUNY, and beth seems to thrive with both of her parents living in the same house at last.

it's a hectic life, but at least once in a while rachel gets to be there to kiss beth goodnight or eat breakfast with her in the morning. and when she falls into bed at night, exhausted from another show, quinn is there to pull her into her arms and mumble out some words of love before falling back to sleep.

on rare days off, quinn and rachel try to take beth out as much as possible, letting her explore all the city has to offer. other times, when the weather fails to cooperate (or they're simply too tired), they all snuggle up together and watch movies.

santana turns out to be the perfect babysitter for beth when quinn and rachel want to spend some time alone. she isn't charmed in the least by the little blonde's good looks, and when beth's inner-gremlin comes out, well, santana can shout twice as loud, and be four times as stubborn.

quinn has rachel pinned against their bedroom door one rare, golden afternoon, when rachel's phone starts ringing.

"don't you dare answer that," quinn says firmly, sliding a hand up under the thin material of rachel's t-shirt.

"wouldn't dream of it," rachel pants. but the phone persists. "wait," rachel says as quinn's teeth begin to graze her collarbone. "what if it's beth?"

"she's almost four. she can take care of herself, right?" quinn growls.

"_quinn_," rachel giggles. "just let me see who it is, and i'll be right back, ok?" she whispers, sliding out of quinn's grasp.

"hello?" rachel says, answering the phone.

"you've got to come get your kid, berry," santana says right away.

"where are you? is she alright? i'll be right-,"

"she's fine. she's not hurt or anything. it's just that...ugh, every time we have her here lately, brittany's been making these googly eyes, and now they're baking cookies together and dancing around the kitchen, and if beth keeps coming over, i just know brittany is going to start bugging me about wanting to have a kid, and i am just not up for that, berry. not yet."

rachel catches her breath before launching into her reply, "santana lopez! do you have any idea how badly you scared me? you know quinn and i haven't had a day to ourselves in over a month, and you promised to watch beth this weekend! if you aren't ready to have kids, tell your fiancé to get her uterus in check, and go back to supervising my daughter so i can get back to what i was doing!"

"whoa. alright, fine. gross, by the way," santana replies.

"and don't call back unless someone's injured!" rachel shouts, not having stopped to breathe yet. "and even then it better be brittany or beth, because i'm not stopping what i'm doing for you!"

"damn, berry. tell your woman she needs to take better care of your needs-,"

"i'm trying to, santana," cuts in quinn, taking the phone from rachel's ear. "we really appreciate you watching beth, but rachel has to go now. talk to you later. bye," she says quickly, hanging up the phone, throwing it aside, and pushing rachel back against the wall.


	23. Chapter 23

months later, brittany and santana ask beth to be the flower girl at their wedding; beth takes the role very seriously. rachel helps her practice her walk and her petal-scattering technique every day for a week leading up to the ceremony. rather than the traditional bridesmaids thing, santana asks rachel and quinn to stand with her, while brittany asks mike and tina.

the morning of the big day, rachel and beth are in the living room practicing beth's walk one last time while quinn finishes getting ready.

"that's perfect, baby," rachel tells beth. "you're going to do an excellent job."

just then, quinn emerges from the bedroom, and all the air vanishes from rachel's lungs. quinn looks no less than stunning in the navy blue dress brittany picked out for all the girls to wear. rachel is dumbstruck. she suddenly remembers the first time she ever saw quinn in that crowded cafeteria, and how she'd almost dropped her tray twice because she couldn't stop looking at how gorgeous quinn was. _and now she's mine_, rachel thinks. her eyes scan over quinn's perfect form once, twice, until finally she says, "you're the most beautiful thing i've ever seen."

quinn blushes. "don't be silly; you're wearing the exact same thing," she says, walking over to rachel and giving her a quick kiss.

"it doesn't look like that on me," rachel murmurs, still swooning.

"what about _me_?" beth asks, tugging at rachel's hand.

rachel crouches down and says, "i already told you, sweetheart. you're going to be the prettiest girl at the wedding. but remember, we can't let aunt brittany find out, or she'll cry."

"and then aunt 'tana will be mad," beth finishes.

"that's right," rachel laughs.

the ceremony is beautiful. beth plays her part marvelously, then takes a seat between kurt and blaine. santana has made rachel promise not to cry, but when quinn slips her hand into rachel's and squeezes it tightly during the vows, rachel can't help but let a few tears escape.

after brittany and santana's first dance, beth is pretty much the star of the wedding reception. rachel and quinn look on with pride as their little girl charms all of the guests, taking her turn at dancing with most of them.

"i guess we'll probably be doing all this again at your wedding before too long," blaine sighs, sidling up to rachel while quinn's off talking to tina and mike.

"oh," rachel scoffs. "i don't think so. not us, not for a while anyway."

blaine just sort of shrugs awkwardly and walks off to get something to drink. rachel lets the idea roll around in her head for a moment. it's not that she hasn't thought about actually being married to quinn, because she has, in tedious detail. it's just that she's not sure when the universe finally stopped hating her, and she's not ready to tempt its wrath by asking for too much all at once. and for the first time in rachel's life, she feels like things are good enough as they are. she understands the inclination to get married, to have that commitment documented by god and the law and your loved ones, but the fact she and quinn have actually made it to this point, living together, and in love, and raising beth together, in spite of everything that's been stacked against them, feels like proof enough of what they are to each other.

"everything alright?" a voice says, breaking rachel out of her thoughts. she looks up and sees quinn standing over her, smiling sweetly.

"i'm just tired," rachel says.

"too tired for a dance?" quinn asks, extending her hand.

"never," rachel replies, smiling as she takes it.

quinn walks rachel out onto the floor and nods toward the dj before pulling rachel close. "i picked out this song for us," quinn says, smiling as the song begins:

_i will be the answer at the end of the line. i will be there for you, while you take your time. in the burning of uncertainty, i will be your solid ground. i will hold the balance if you can't look down._

"that part's about you, about how you never stopped loving me, even when i didn't make it easy on you," quinn whispers.

_if it takes my whole life, i won't break, i won't bend. it'll all be worth it, worth it in the end. 'cause i can only tell you what i know, that i need you in my life, and when the stars have all burned out, you'll still be burning so bright._

"that part's about me. i'll always love you, rachel. you'll always be my star," she continues.

tears of raw emotion sting rachel's eyes as she searches for the right thing to say, but quinn isn't quite finished. rachel feels quinn take a deep breath before pressing her lips impossibly close to rachel's ear and whispering, "i don't want to steal brittany and santana's thunder here, but…later tonight, i'm going to ask you to marry me. i want to dance with you to this song at our wedding."

rachel loses the ability to breathe for the second time that day. she looks up into quinn's eyes, and sees pure love reflected back at her, without a trace of anger, sadness, or shame. it's exactly the way quinn had looked at her that night in lima, when rachel had first sung for her at the bar. that look of expectation and affection, that look that made her feel like anything was possible.

there will be time for jumping for joy, for screaming out her answer and leaping into quinn's arms. but for now she just wants to go on with their dance, that dance that time and circumstance have already kept them from for far too long.

"i'll say yes," rachel whispers back.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> so i think that's it, guys. writing this has been so much fun, and i really appreciate those of you who stuck with it from beginning to end, especially those of you who sent such kind and funny reviews. can you believe i managed to bust out a happy ending after all? anyway, i got a fictionpress account (same username), and i plan to start posting to it fairly soon, so hopefully some of you will follow me there. and i'll be back here when inspiration strikes, but please feel free to send me any prompts/story ideas you might have.


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